Sisters and Stepsisters
by Phillippa of the Phoenix
Summary: Irene Graham's life used to be pretty simple. Then her stepsister Ella captured the heart of a prince. Now it's riddled with lies and confusion, and she may be the only one who can fix it.
1. Anticipation

So, I'm kind of editing the beginning of this, because I first wrote it over a year ago, and I've kind of improved. Plus, I changed the poet's name from Ky'loe (something I made up when I liked a boy named Kyle) to Bilanciato (which means 'balanced' in Italian (I think)) and wanted to include all the poems I wrote. Aaaaand, I originally wanted my penname to be Phillippa of the Phoenix FEATHER, which, you know, it is not. So, whatever, this is the new and better version. Enjoy.

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Chapter One - Anticipation 

_I await the day that will come  
When the oceans turn to the sky  
I await the day that my kingdom  
Is not split like a blueberry pie  
– _Bilanciato

"The prince is giving a ball!" The word spread through the street faster than wildfire. I heard it while I was buying the bread and cheese. I quickly thanked the grocer and ran home.

"Ada!" I cried. "Mother!" They gathered around me, with Ella panting from her run up the stairs. Although I had not called her name, she saw it fit to hear any news that concerned the other three females of the house.

"What is it?" Mother asked, worried. "Irene, did you get robbed?"

"No, no, this is good news." I smiled.

"Oh, come, Irene, tell us!" Ada begged.

"The prince is giving a ball!" I told them all about the ball. It was tonight, and the prince was going to pick his bride there. We all loved balls. All of us were smiling wide, except Mother.

"Now, daughters," said Mother. "You know that we have not been getting a lot of business lately –"

"Oh!" Ella stomped her foot. "We are _always_ working! We never get to go to _any_ balls!"

"Don't be too quick with your 'we,' Ella, dear," I said quietly.

Ella was lazy. She avoided work like the plague. _I never had to work when my father was alive_, she would complain. _If my father knew I was scrubbing the floor_, she would whine. _I looked as if I have slept in cinders_, she would wail. _All the neighbors call me Cinder-Ella because I'm so dirty_, she would sob, loudly.

To this Ada, Mother and I would say, _We were rich before your father died, Ella, dear._ Or _Everyone has to work to keep the house clean and the shop running, Ella, dear._ Or _Shut up and clean, Ella, dear._ Well, not that last one, but I had definitely thought about it. Mother was nice to her because she had loved William, her father. We were nice to her because we loved Mother.

We owned a store called The Fairy's Shoppe, full of dresses, bonnets, hats, shoes and parasols. We had to move out of our house and into the upper story when my stepfather died. Ella, who insisted on being dressed in only the latest fashions, spent most of our money. She lived like a princess, she never worked in the store, and she had a maid. After my stepfather died, the maid was fired and most of her things were put in the shop. Ella could never quite forgive us for that.

Ella pouted and said, "Well, can we go to the ball?"

"You have been working quite hard lately, so I suppose you could"

"Hooray!" Ella cried, a little too quickly.

". . . if you get all your chores done today."

"Hooray!" Ada and I cried. I had all ready bought food – all I had left to do was prepare and bake dinner. Ada, I knew, still had to clean the kitchen, being done with the laundry. Ella had only been assigned one chore: to clean the cellar. I had cleaned the cellar two days ago, so it would not take very long. Unsurprisingly, she had not even started.

"Boo," Ella said. On the other hand, maybe she said something slightly more offensive than that, which made me cry, "Ella!" and Mother color scarlet and Ada shake her head. It was two hours until the ball, so Ada and I started on our chores with much haste and giddy excitement. I cannot say the same for Ella, who sat around planning and day-dreaming. "Irene . . ." She called, coming into the kitchen, where Ada and I were working.

"Yes, Ella, dear," I answered with clenched teeth. I was chopping the bread and found myself clutching the knife rather tensely and trying to ignore several other things I should like to tell my stepsister.

"Could I wear your gloves for tonight? Mine are soiled."

"Perhaps, Ella, dear."

"And Ada, could I use your hair ribbon? The only one I have is much too old and ratty, and has lost all its color."

"We shall see, Ella, dear."

"And maybe your slippers, too? I dare say you have grown, and they will not fit."

"Maybe, Ella, dear," Ada spat.

"And it would be more sensible for me to wear your best gown, Irene. It is highly unlikely the prince will even look at you."

The knife in my hand stopped moving. Ada stood up off the floor she was scrubbing. Her mouth opened, no doubt to say something very rude, though not exactly uncalled for. I interrupted her before she even started, saying softly, "So, you believe the prince will find favor with you?" Ada stooped back down onto the floor.

"Well, who wouldn't, when I'm so gorgeous and slim, unlike you two?"

That was the last straw for Ada, and this time I did not even start to try to stop her. She sprang up, fists doubled and at the ready, though her mind had a slightly harder time with coming up with a concise insult. "You – you evil girl! Wicked, wicked girl! You spoiled, ill-tempered girl!"

"I'd rather be an ill-tempered angel than a good-tempered pig," Ella hissed. Then, Mother came in, stopping the fight in an instant.

"Girls, I heard . . . Ella, what are you doing in here? You should be in the cellar! I peeked down there, and it's as dirty as . . ." Ella just stood there. "Well? Off with you!" Ella scurried out of the room.

"Mother?" Ada said, wearily, "Must we –"

Mother interrupted her. She had asked it many times before. "Yes. We must. Girls, you know she's only seventeen –"

"Irene is seventeen herself, Mother." Ada was given an impatient look. By both Mother and me.

"Yes, dears, and you don't see me turning you out on your ear, do you? Her father made me promise to keep her and treat her as one of my own until she was married. Then, we will be able to never see her again," Mother promised, patting Ada's dirty hand affectionately.

"Couldn't you just marry her off?" Ada spoke, with a sort of empty hope.

"Darling," Mother said, tiring of the conversation, "she has the right to choose. Just like you two. Now stop dilly-dallying, you're going to be later than is even fashionably so unless you finish your chores soon."

I hurriedly cut the vegetables for the soup, and set the table, while Ada finished the floor, and cleaned the counter-top. It only took us an hour. We had an hour to eat and get ready. Mother called down the cellar, "Ella, dear, Ada and Irene are finished; we are going to eat supper. Come up, dear!"

Ella came up and ate with us, saying, "Are you sure you rinsed these vegetables, Irene?" and "This bread is stale . . . what? You bought it today? Well, it's certainly not fresh bread!" and "I'm still hungry!"

"I am quite sure, Ella, dear," and "I bought it today, Ella, dear," and "That's all we have, Ella, dear," we answered her. When the meal was finished, Ada and I went upstairs to be changed. We heard Mother and Ella arguing.

"You _always_ pick on me! It is only because I am not your daughter! If my _father_ was alive . . ."

I shook my head, and then broke into the song we had come up with one day, when Ella was being particularly nasty and lazy. "When will you learn?"

"That it's your turn?" Ada sang.

"We all must work," I untied my apron.

"Duty, do not shirk," Ada took off her old, soiled slippers.

"We give you a home, we feed you."

"We keep you, though we don't need you," Ada placed her corset on, saying, "Irene, could you?"

I nodded. "When will you learn, and heed what you hear?" I pulled hard, and left Ada gasping for breath.

"When will you be not evil, Ella, dear?" Ada finished. She eyed my sufficiently thin middle and picked up the other corset. "Your turn, Irene."

I put up my hands to block her. "I'm not wearing one of those! The last time I did, I fainted!" Ada smirked. "And you know I did!" We finished dressing and, with much laughter, started doing our hair.

"Oh, what I would give for your hair!" I moaned, pulling my fingers through Ada's abundant locks. "Golden and shiny," I sighed. "Instead of brown and so dull."

Ada laughed. "Stop complaining, you know what a bother my hair is. And your hair is perfect!" She looked at me, a teasing spark in her eye. "And I'm sure Nathaniel Grey would say the same . . ."

I shoved her playfully. "And Gregory Lawson would say the same about yours, dear sister," I paused. "If he stopped and looked," I giggled.

She made a face at her image in the mirror. "Gregory Lawson hasn't even noticed me. His eyes and brains are just for meat!" Mr. Lawson was the butcher's handsome apprentice whom Ada had chosen to sigh over, at least until someone who would converse with her came along.

Nathaniel Grey was our across-the-street-and-two-houses-down neighbor. He and I were best friends growing up, but then he grew sweet on me once we were old enough to notice that girls and boys were different. He would remind me constantly that I was beautiful and he loved me. I almost stopped doing anything with him, but then I started not minding his silly words so much, though I never said any in return. He was my escort to the ball.

Our hair was put up in a fashionable way: Ada's piled up on her head, mine brushed until it shone under the stars and adorned with several sprigs of blue forget-me-nots – my favorite flower. My gown was silver and blue. Ada's was gold. When the time to go came, Ada and Mother said good-bye to Ella and got into the rented carriage while I stayed home waiting for Nathaniel.

Ella was even more exasperating after they left. _I fail to see why you should get to go. I am at least three times as beautiful as you are. The prince would never choose you._

"Ella, dear," I said calmly, trying not to let any sarcasm into the 'dear' part. "I don't want the prince to choose me."

"I'm sick of working all the time. One of these days, Irene, I am going to escape this hell-hole and live like a queen!" Ella's face was consumed by her hatred of her situation, and I wondered what anybody saw in her. How could you look into her face and see anything but greed? Then, I saw the Grey carriage pull up to our humble townhouse.

"Good-bye, Ella!" I practically ran into Nathaniel's arms. "Please, take me away!" I whispered to him. He laughed.

"So, is your evil step-sister giving you a hard time?" His eyes twinkled. My heart did a little flip. I was going to fall into those mesmerizing green things if I was not careful.

"Ella is not evil," I said, firmer than I felt. "She's just. . ." Nat looked at me, wondering how I would describe her. ". . . difficult!"

He laughed again, which I had hoped for. "Well, come on, Irene. We would not want to be late." He helped me into the carriage. We joked with each other and laughed the whole way there.

When we got out of the carriage, I was amazed at how many people were there. Carriages of every size and make filled the road to the castle. "Looks like we're going to have to walk from here," Nat said. He turned to the driver. "Pick us up around . . ." He looked at me.

"After midnight?" I asked. I didn't want to stay too long.

"Around one." The driver sped off into the night. Nat took my arm and led me to the gate. "Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" He whispered in my ear.

My heart did another flip and I blushed, thankful for the dim light. "Don't be silly. You know this dress is old and the pearls secondhand."

"I'm not talking about the dress, Irene," he frowned. "Why won't you ever believe me when I tell you that you're beautiful?"

"I would believe you if you said Ella were beautiful, because she is, but me –" Nat's frown deepened. "And because you're just a lovesick boy, Nat, and I think your opinions might be a little biased," I told him.

"I'm not a boy anymore, Irene." Nathaniel said seriously. I did not like how this conversation was going. Nat had liked me ever since I was 13, but only recently had my heart been doing little flips. I had not even told him about that. For all he knew, I still thought of him as a friend. I did not want to rush anything. While it was true he was not a boy, I was not convinced he was a man, either.

"Is your brother coming to the ball?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "I dare say Lucinda Mus would love to go with –"

"Irene, I don't want to talk about Alexander." He was mad, and I did not like that he was, but I _really_ didn't want to talk about _marriage_.

"Well, that isn't very nice, he's your only brother, you know, and. . ."

"Irene," he interrupted.

"Nat?" I said, trying to sound innocent.

He sighed, and his big hand took mine. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but you know how much I love you –"

"Yes, I do. To both of them. Now, can we please go?" I pleaded. Any more of this talk and I might be spouting love poems!

"All right, Irene, but if you keep putting it off until tomorrow, one of these days you'll run out of them." Nat replied.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why, that's very profound, Nathaniel." I said, glad we were finally off the subject of marriage. "I will have to remember it and repeat it to you when **I **want to talk about something you don't."

He reddened. "I read it out of a book, if you must know," he admitted, reading the question under my sarcasm.

"Oh, Nat, never mind," I said, reading the hurt in his voice. "I'm still your friend, even if you never think of anything original to say."

"I think of original things to say!"

"Do not."

"Do, too!"

"Name one." We were fighting, but at least we were not fighting like adults, anymore. We playfully shoved each other, but then took on a more dignified air as we journeyed into more populated ground. We were not dignified enough not to whisper to each other about the other couples, though.

We laughed at the tall woman and the short man, and we stared after a man so dark; he seemed burnt of the sun. There was no one that dark in our town. We had stubborn opinions on where from he came. Nat said he obviously came from East Lolina, while it was evident to me that he came from Jhitii. He appeared lonely. I made a mental note to talk to him at the ball.

Something else caught my eye. "Oh, Nat, look! There is Mother and Ada! Come on, before I lose sight of them." I could see Ada's yellow hair bobbing away from me. I hurried to keep after them, slipping in my clumsy shiny shoes.

"Ada! Ada, wait!" I caught her just before the door.

"There you are, dear," said Mother. "Hello, Nathaniel."

"Hello, Mrs. Graham." Nat said cordially, bowing politely. Dignity aside, we all walked as a group and I told Ada about the dark man.

"Oh, I saw him, too!" said Ada. "He looked very lonely, don't you think?"

"That is exactly what I thought! We must introduce ourselves to him." Then, we were at the door. "I suppose we'll be introduced separately."

"I suppose," sighed Mother, walking to the man at the door. "Mrs. Broen and Miss Graham, if you please." They walked through the door and the man said,

"Mrs. Broen and Miss Graham!"

"Mr. Grey and Miss Irene, you think?" Nathaniel suggested with a smile and a hint of a wink.

"Oh, just say Nathaniel Grey and Irene Graham." He did. "Honestly, Nat, you can be so silly sometimes, I swear, if we were not –"

"Nathaniel Grey and Irene Graham!" said the announcer, interrupting me.

"If we were not what?" asked Nat suspiciously, only I never got to answer him. That is when we saw the ballroom and found ourselves quite incapable of speech.

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This story does indeed improve as it goes along. Next time: Le romance! (doo-do-do-dooooo!) 

Join the review revolution and share the love.

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	2. Tranformations

Sisters and Step-Sisters  
(evil and otherwise)  
  
¤¤¤¤¤ Phillippa of the Phoenix Feather ¤¤¤¤¤  
  
dear readers --  
Some of you were confused by my summary (awfully sorry), but Irene will not, I repeat, will not fall in love with the prince. Accept my humble apology for the confusion.  
Without any more giliding the lily and no further ado, here's the second chapter. Enjoy!  
  
chapter two  
TRANSFORMATIONS  
  
It was colossal and everything was aureate gold. The ceiling was painted like the night sky, blackish blue with stars. It looked so real. I was so preoccupied staring up, I fairly tripped poor Nat.  
  
"Watch it!" he exclaimed, but I could tell he had been mesmerized by the grandeur, too. I remembered the same feeling when Father took Ada and me to the 'imperial' gardens. 'Imperial', I say, because although that is what they were called, Father pointed out that imperial meant 'pertaining to an emperor' and we have no emperor, just a king, and kingly gardens, in all fairness, just doesn't strike you the same way as imperial ones. Back to the ball.  
  
So many people were there! Dresses of every single color under the sky! Men in suits, from the blacksmith to the baker to the drunk (who, it seemed, was haunting the wine table and bargaining earnestly with the wine man for another drink). There, sitting quite comfortably, not too far from me, were King Reynard and Queen Aurelia and their son, Prince Lawrence the fourth. Or fifth. I wasn't sure which.  
  
Nat and I stood there, drinking in our elegant surroundings. A butler came by with a plateful of things I had never seen before. I took a round brown cracker-like food, while Nat grabbed a dark brown hunk of something. We both stared at our food until Mother came by and scolded us with her mouth half-full of something.  
  
Nat took his first bite of the hunk of brown and nearly choked. "It's very bitter," Nat said, swallowing hard.  
  
"It's called chocolate," a voice said softly. I looked around and saw a woman a little older than Ada. She wore a dress of purple velvet and seemed to dance around rather than walk. She curtsied and said, "I'm sorry to barge in, but I saw you take it and wondered what you would think of it. It's new in the castle." She leaned in as if she was going to tell a secret. "I'm Princess Ariadne. Don't tell, I'm masquerading as a noble." With that, Princess Ariadne was off with a flounce of her fancy skirt. Nat stared after her.  
  
"I know she's beautiful, Nat, but at least gawk with your mouth closed," I told him curtly, hating the fact that I was envious of her. Nat closed his gaping mouth hurriedly and then grinned.  
  
"Irene. . ." he said, taking my hand and leading me out to the balcony and a black sky spotted with so many stars. "Are you. . .jealous?"  
  
"No," I answered, a little too quickly.  
  
"Aha! You are jealous!" Nat crowed.  
  
"No, I'm not. I'm just --" That's when Nathaniel kissed me on the mouth. He left me inarticulate. I despised it, loathed it, but adored it at the same time. I guess that's why I kissed him back. All I have to say is it's a good thing we were outside, away from the crowd.  
  
We were leaning on the edge of the railing when I broke away. "Nat, I. . ." I started.  
  
"That's why I say you're beautiful, Irene. Not because of how you look. . .really. It's because of -- Irene!" He said that last part because I had started to cry.  
  
"I'm sorry, Nat, it's just that. . ." I wiped at the tears and tried to talk without my voice shaking. "I'm sorry --"  
  
Nathaniel took me and held me close to him. I buried my head into his chest. Nat started to speak, his voice slightly muffled. "It's all right, I'm here, everything's going to be fine. I'm right here. . ."  
  
My mind had drifted to my father, when I was 9 years old. I could picture him, strong and safe, picking me up from my books. "Irene," he said. "When you stop thinking about books and start thinking about boys, that's when I know you won't be my little girl."  
  
"Oh, Father," I had answered him. "Even if I ever find a boy who's more interesting than books, he'll never take your place!" When I had thought of that, I had missed him more than ever. I didn't wail, choosing instead to sob softly into the dark cloth of Nat's coat that deadened the sound. After a while, I grew silent. Nat put his hands on my bare shoulders and pulled me away.  
  
"What's wrong, Irene?" Nat asked me, sounding worried.  
  
"Nothing. . .I remembered. . .my father one time. . .and I just missed him so much." A solitary tear ran down a damp cheek. "I'm sorry I'm ruining it all for you --"  
  
"No," Nat interrupted me. "It's fine. Are you all right now?" I nodded mutely. "You're sure? You still look a little. . .shaky."  
  
"Truly, Nathaniel, I'll be fine. I promise I won't cry in the soup or anything."  
  
"Irene, that's not what I'm worried about," he told me with a slight smile. Kissing me gently on the cheek, he took my hand and pulled me into the ballroom. The same elegance met us as before. The ceiling, a picture of the real sky, hung above us. I rubbed my cheeks and smiled, hoping no one could tell they had been covered in salty tears only minutes before.  
  
"I hope this doesn't mean you'll never let me kiss you again," Nat said, the words tickling my ear and turning my heart over most annoyingly.  
  
"It just means I'm in an emotional whirlwind," I told him, feeling stronger.  
  
Nat laughed. "Only you, Irene, could make love sound scientific."  
  
Love? Is that what it was? I wasn't sure, I only knew my heart had been beating about a thousand times per second ever since we had kissed and I felt peculiarly breathless. Love. . .maybe.  
  
"Irene! There you are!" Ada came up to me with the dark man following her and looking disconcerted. "Irene, Nathaniel, this is His Excellency, Prince Seolai of Jhiline."  
  
"I am pleased to meet you, sir, miss," Seolai bowed.  
  
"Likewise, Your Excellency," I said with a curtsy, nudging Nat on the way. He bowed quickly. "Are you here to visit. . .for the ball, perhaps?"  
  
"Ah, yes, my aunt is here also, Lady Selina of Fbin. See her. . .conversing with the prince?" We all turned to look. Two women were standing by the prince. One had skin a shade lighter than Seolai, the other had piles of shimmering gold hair. I figured Lady Selina was the darker one. I took a second glance at the other one. Something about her was strangely familiar. Perhaps it was her dress. . .   
  
Seolai was speaking again, "The whole thing is rather odd, being so desperate to hold a ball to choose a wife. Cannot a wedding be arranged if there cannot be found a suitable mate?"  
  
"I quite agree," said Nat with a pointed look at me. "If you want to find someone, the kind of people who would fling themselves at you isn't the kind that would be fitting for the next king."  
  
"Exactly," Seolai concurred. "I would hardly hope to find someone. . ." I moved towards Ada so we could talk. Drawing away from the men, we whispered discreetly.  
  
"What you think of him, Reney?" Ada said, smiling at a man walking past.  
  
"Oh, I don't know--"  
  
"He's very courteous," Ada interrupted.  
  
"Yes, I noticed that. Very courteous--"  
  
"And he talked to me first," informed Ada.  
  
"He did?" I whispered unbelievingly.  
  
"Yes, he came right up to Mother and me and introduced himself. Can you believe it?"  
  
"Frankly," I told Ada, "no, he seems very shy to me."  
  
"Why, he wasn't shy at all. Just came over and said, 'Hello, I am Prince Seolai, who are you?' I didn't know what to say. He's very handsome."  
  
"Yes, very -- err -- dignified." Ada looked at me closely for the first time since I had come back from the balcony.  
  
"Why are your checks all red?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, just a little excited. It's the first time we've been in the palace and--"  
  
"He kissed you, didn't he?" Ada asked with sudden realization.  
  
"What?" I half-cried. "Who?"  
  
"Oh, Reney, don't play dumb. I can tell. You've been looking at him all sappy-lovey like," Ada said disdainfully.  
  
"No, I haven't," I said. "Have I?"  
  
Ada laughed. "It's practically shameful."  
  
I bit my lip. "Is it that obvious?"  
  
"I could see it if I was on the other side of the world."  
  
"Ha, ha. Really -- is it?"  
  
"Truly. It's very obvious."  
  
"Do you think he noticed?" I asked, worried.  
  
"What!" Ada snorted. "He's half-blind with love for you. All he looks at is you. Of course, he noticed, crazy!"  
  
Half-blind with love for me? I never thought Nat would turn serious. Now it seemed he must have. When did an adorer turn into your true love? I could not be the one to draw the line. I didn't even know if I was in love, much less what kind of love I had for Nat.  
  
I stole a glance towards him. He was speaking animatedly with Seolai, talking about something my ears did not hear. Could I picture my lifetime spent with him? Was it love I felt for him, or mere infatuation? I had no way of knowing and no one to ask. It was certainly a predicament.  
  
Turning back towards Ada, the lady I saw before crossed my line of vision. There was something very familiar about her that poked me and wouldn't let me forget it. "Ada," I hissed at her, "Look over there, by the prince." Ada looked. "See that lady talking with him? Do you recognize her?"  
  
"No," Ada said at first. "Well, yes, actually. . .the dress especially. . ."  
  
"Do you know who she is?" I asked with bated breath.  
  
Ada stared at her for a long time. "Indeed I do not. Her name is at the tip of my tongue and yet it will not come."  
  
"That is how I feel also," I agreed, examining the lady. She laughed, a musical melody that resounded into my ears and stunned me. "Ada," I gasped with sudden realization, "It is Ella."  
  
Ada stared hard at her. "No, it couldn't be. It couldn't."  
  
"It is! I know it! That dress she's wearing is the one in the shop! The best one!"  
  
"So it is," agreed Ada in a whisper. "It must be Ella."  
  
After the immense initial shock wore off, I got angry. "She stole from our store! That lazy good for nothing --"  
  
"Irene, hush. You're going to attract people's unwanted attention." I took a deep breath. "There now."  
  
More calm now, I reported, "And she's wearing some of my jewelry! I can't believe she's here! I just can't believe it!"  
  
"What's happened, Reney?" Nat came from behind me, making me jump.  
  
"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," I lied, my face growing red and my heart beating faster and faster.  
  
"Something's happened. Tell me!" Nat's body was making my poor heart ache with awareness of his proximity to me. I felt his breath on my cheeks. Oh, oh, was it love I felt in my innermost heart?  
  
"Oh, leave her alone, Nathaniel!" Ada cried, interrupting my pondering. "Nothing happened, except you scaring the daylights out of her."  
  
Nathaniel laughed and took my hand as the orchestra struck up the waltz. "Dance?" he asked me politely before whisking me away to the middle of the ballroom.  
  
Dancing is one of the best things about balls. My father and mother loved to dance, and taught Ada and I every dance they knew. They knew a lot of dances. Although Ada was never very light on her feet, I mastered every dance I was taught and knew instantly what kind of dance it was from the music. I loved to dance, perhaps even more than my parents did.  
  
With a partner like Nat, it was even better. Our movements were liquid-smooth. Dancing faster and faster, I stared into Nat's green eyes. He stared right back. I had a feeling we were the only ones in the room, waltzing on the sky. I felt as if I could dance with Nat until the end of time, his hand resting gently on my back, his hand clasping mine, his green eyes looking earnestly into my blue ones. My feet knew the steps, my mind was full of one thing: Nathaniel.  
  
The music stopped. We stopped. My dress swished from the rapid movement changing so quickly to none at all. My heart beat harder and harder. Nat filled my vision, his hand leaving my back cold, his eyes searching my face. "Are you sure that. . ."  
  
I was sure of nothing. My mind was in a tizzy, I couldn't think. Words ran through my head and threatened to run out if I opened my mouth: Nat, I love you, I love you, I love you.  
  
"Irene." Nat's voice saying my name exploded and echoed in my head. I wanted to turn away and run from him and my feelings, but my body was not my own. My feet walked, plodding along with his. He swallowed hard and looked at me, forcing me to at least glance at his face. "Will you come?"  
  
Come? Come with him? Where? What did he mean? I saw him moving towards our balcony. Our balcony!? I mean, the balcony where he had kissed me. Oh. He wanted me to come to our -- the -- balcony. No. I wouldn't. No. I couldn't. No! NO!  
  
"Yes," I heard myself answer him softly. Was I in charge of anything? It seemed not, for my feet eagerly carried me to a spot near him. He put his arms around my waist. . .  
  
All was quiet. The only sound was the beating of Nathaniel's heart. Bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum. His body envelopped mine. His warmth drifted to my cold fingers. He held them tenderly and pulled them up to his lips, kissing them softly and letting them go. My hands stayed still there, holding his face. We were alone with the night.  
  
So much had changed in so little a time. My heart thumped steadily for Nathaniel. He held me in his arms, and I could not hear anything but his voice, telling me he loved me. He loved me. He loved me. He loved me.  
  
But, in reality, how much had changed? Nat had only kissed me once on the mouth, twice on the cheek. A grand total a three kisses. But I no longer resisted the fact that he loved me. I had kissed him, too. Oops. Make that a grand total of four kisses.  
  
The palace clock clanked eleven times. Eleven! All ready! Two more hours and the magical night would be done. I collected my wits from where they lay on the floor and stood, retracting my body from where it lay, tangled in Nat's arms.  
  
"Come on, Nat, let's dance again. Or find Ada and Mother," I suggested as he got off the bench we had been sitting on.  
  
"Ada and Seolai, you mean," Nat corrected with a smile that made my heart skip a little beat.  
  
"Yes, probably. They hit right off, didn't they?" I queried.  
  
"It definitely seems so," Nat said. The ballroom was before us once again, and suddenly I remembered Ella. Where had she gone? I wondered if she was still with the prince. There! She was dancing with the prince. The prince was smiling, laughing. The look he gave her shocked me. It was how Nat looked at me. . .a look of love.  
  
"Look for Ada," I requested. "or Mother."  
  
"There's your mother. She's dancing!" Nathaniel said with a laugh.  
  
With who? "Where is she?" I asked, searching wildly.  
  
"Near the throne."  
  
There she was! I couldn't see who she was dancing with, they were moving too fast. I was glad she was having fun, but I really needed to talk with her about Ella.  
  
"Come on, Irene, we'll dance over to her," Nat suggested, taking my hand again. We fairly flew through the air. We finally caught up with her and her partner and I saw he was the Duke of Murshire, the king's brother, Roderick. Imagine that! My mother and a duke. My thoughts turned to Ada and Seolai. That makes me a daughter of a duchess and a sister of a princess. And me? I'll just be Nat's wife, the one who couldn't capture the heart of royalty, only her best friend.  
  
¤¤¤¤¤ Phillippa ¤¤¤¤¤  
  
Hurray! They kissed! I am so happy! Notes to my reviewers, the dears:

Miss Piratess -- I know what you mean about Ella. I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing, but she gets on my nerves even though I created her! Ah, well. . .the sparks between Nat and Irene are becoming warm enough to roast marshmallows on. . .

RaspberryGirl -- You think I'm witty? I am deeply honored.

Turwen -- It works out PERFECTLY? I am so glad you think so!

Last, but of course not least,  
Artemis -- Yeah, I can't stand Ella either. She actually gets more annoying, if that is at all possible. I permit you to love Nathaniel, but he's still mine. (grins and laughs wildly)

review review review review


	3. The Great and Terrible

¤¤¤¤¤ Phillippa here ¤¤¤¤¤  
  
Well, my dear, dear readers, this is not a very happy chapter. I'm just warning you. Sorry. I took so long to update! End of the year stuff and all, my brother's graduation, my sister is home from college. . .but I finally got it done. Enjoy this extra-long chapter!  
  
chapter three  
  
LOVE AND MOON-MEN  
  
"Oh, hello, Irene," said Mother when the music and dance ceased. "Roderick, this is my daughter, Irene, and our neighbor, Nathaniel Grey." Roderick! She called him Roderick!  
  
"Hello," I murmured, wondering if he was a highness or, majesty, or what. "Mother, may I have a few words?"  
  
"Of course. That is, if you don't mind, Roderick. . ." Mother said, turning to him.  
  
"No, Gloria, you go. I'll be fine with -- what was your name, again?"  
  
"Nathaniel."  
  
"Ah, yes, Nathaniel and I will talk."  
  
I pulled her away from Nat and 'Roderick' to a place I was sure Nat wouldn't hear. "Mother. You'll never believe me, but Ella is here."  
  
She reacted the exact way I thought she would. With not so much as a blink, she said, calmly, "Nonsense."  
  
"I'm serious, Mother. I saw her. With the prince. Ask Ada. She'll say the same."  
  
"No, no, you've probably mistaken some poor innocent girl for her."  
  
"It's her. I know it. If you saw her, you'd know it was her. She's wearing our best dress and my jewelry." I was trying hard not to raise my voice.  
  
Mother only repeated, "Nonsense." She didn't say it as confidently this time.  
  
I turned towards the crowd to search for her. I looked for Prince Lawrence the fifth (or fourth). In his brilliantly clean suit and golden crown, he was impossible to miss. I found him soon enough, but he was dancing with Lady Selina again. Where was Ella? Next, I checked the food table. Bullseye! There she was, filling her plate with turkey and beef.  
  
"Look, see, by the third table of food? She is taking some quail eggs," I directed my mother.  
  
She paled. "Nonsense," she repeated, only she didn't sound sure at all. Not a bit.  
  
"What shall we do?"  
  
"Oh, leave her," said Mother, louder than needed. I shushed her. "Oh, leave her and forget her. She   
  
has obviously forgotten us."  
  
Forget her? Was I hearing this from my mother? My mother, the gentle rebuker, telling me (strongly) to forget Ella was here? My whole upbringing forbid it. "What of the prince? No doubt she has lied to him about her station in life."  
  
"I hardly know or care."  
  
I stared at my mother. I had not heard her right. I could not have heard her say that. I started to speak again, but she turned away, back to Roderick. I walked behind her, dragging my heart along on a string. I was all in disarray. Was Mother. . .drunk? No, no, no, it couldn't be. She wouldn't. . .and yet, what other explanation did I have? Had her character changed so radically in a matter of a few hours? I was befuddled completely. Before I had the chance to call her back to me, she flitted away to Roderick and I was alone.  
  
"Irene." Ah. Not so alone, after all. Nat had left the two dancers to their dancing. He took my hand and his green eyes looked worriedly into mine. "Something is wrong."  
  
"What?" I asked, wondering if he meant my mother, or Ella, or what.  
  
"Where is your smile? Why aren't you happy? We're at a ball! We're in the palace!" Nat reached up and held my face still so I could not turn away from him. "Something is wrong," he repeated quietly. His hands moved down to my shoulders and pulled me into him. "Tell me," he pleaded.  
  
I could not tell him. I wanted to, but could not. Not about Ella, not about Mother, not about any of the other things weighing down my smile. Like him, for instance. I shook my head, looking down at the ground. "I cannot," I whispered. He let me go, understandably frustrated. I was frustrated with my own self.  
  
I wished I was braver. I wished I was brave enough to march right up to Ella and drag her away from the ball and the prince. I wished I was brave enough to let three small words tumble out of my mouth and into Nat's ears. I wished I was brave enough to confront Mother and ask her outright how many glasses of champagne she had drank. I wasn't. I would never be that brave. I was too quiet, too peaceable to be brave. My heart mourned my bravery, or lack there of, as I watched my Nathaniel walk away from me.  
  
My stomach turned over painfully, reminding me I hadn't eaten anything since the cracker. My mouth felt drier than a desert. I made my way through the crowd to the food tables. Filling my delicate plate with beef and chicken and rabbit, I saw Nat only a little ahead of me. I skipped the desserts to catch up to him.  
  
"Nathaniel," I said, announcing my presence next to him.  
  
"Irene," he answered, with a touch of coolness in his voice.  
  
"Nat, I'm sorry, I am. I just can't --" I started, saddened by his tone with me and wanting to explain myself.  
  
"Why not?" he demanded, walking from me.  
  
"Nat," I repeated, walking swiftly to overtake him. "If you would just let me clarify. . ."  
  
"Either tell me or leave me. I have no use for a secret-keeper," Nat said, turning away. Oh, a cruel ultimatum indeed! I stood a moment and watched him, then walked to one of the many banquet tables. I had other things on my mind than a certain Mr. Nathaniel Grey.  
  
Walking outside and feeling the night air on my cheeks, I sighed. It was almost as if the wind had blown my worries and taken them to a place far, far away. I walked to the fountain, setting my plate down on the edge. I didn't feel very hungry anymore. I joined my food on the edge of the fountain and dipped my hand into the ice-cold water. I swirled it, watching and enjoying the ripples spreading through the monstrous basin of water.  
  
I looked at my reflection when the water had stilled. My curls had almost vanished, my hair had lost its shiny glow. I removed my tiara and set it on my lap. It seemed too grand for me, now. My high cheek-bones, which boys found attractive in other girls, merely made my eyes look bigger. Not that they needed it -- my silvery-blue eyes were in stark contrast to my dark face. I found it hard to believe that at seventeen, almost in womanhood, I still felt awkward, all knees and elbows.  
  
I was astounded at the twelve clangs of the palace clock. It reminded me I only had one hour left until the Grey carriage would come. Thinking of that reminded me of Nat. Thinking of that reminded me he had told me I was beautiful. I remembered his crest-fallen face, his cold tone which bit at my skin and hurt as much as if it was hail, his words and his kiss. I gazed at my mirror image, watching the tears slide down my face and drop into the fountain water, causing the ripples to spread once more.  
  
"Excuse me, miss," said a someone in a low, husky voice. I jumped, startled considerably, and steadied myself. I hurriedly wiped the marks of my sadness off my face and turned to the intruder. It was Prince Lawrence the fourth (or fifth).  
  
"Your majesty," I murmured, sweeping an elegant curtsy and slipping slightly.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine, thank you." He had caught me crying. I blurted, "You see, it's because --"  
  
He held up his hand. "You need not tell me." Very different from Nat, I noted. "I came here to escape love myself."  
  
"Love?" I said, surprised.  
  
"Ah, yes, love. The great and terrible." The great and terrible -- he read Ky'loe, my favorite writer! "Is that not what this night is about? My love."  
  
I had almost forgotten that was what it was about -- a marriage ball. For him. "To escape love or to find it?" I asked him.  
  
He smiled sadly. "I have all ready found it, but it has run away from me."  
  
"It?"  
  
"She," he consented. Very slowly, he took from behind his back one glass slipper. I had not even noticed he was hiding it. "This is all I have left."  
  
"Well," I said, holding out my empty hands. "You are one better than me. I have nothing left."  
  
He made an indistinct noise in his throat. "There now, I thought no one would understand me, but we seem to be two peas in a pod."  
  
Two peas in a pod?! With the prince, for goodness sakes! "So, your highness, since your love has run away, what are going to do? Run after her or to someone else?"  
  
"There is no one like her," the prince said with a catch in his voice. "No one."  
  
"Then you will run after her. What is her name?" I asked, thinking, any name but Ella, please, any name but Ella. . .  
  
He gave a hollow laugh. "Is it not strange? I do not even know."  
  
"You do not know the name of your love?" This seemed impossible.  
  
"No. As I said, all I have is this glass slipper." The prince looked so sad, so horribly sad, I was moved to help him.  
  
"Perhaps you can find your love with the glass slipper," I suggested.  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"Try it on every girl in the city -- and pick out all the ones who fit the shoe, and see if you can tell which one your love is," I explained.  
  
"I would surely recognize her," whispered the prince. He stood there, looking at the moon and thinking.   
  
"Thank you, miss. My love and I are indebted to you." He bowed, kissed my hand and left me with only the fountain and the sky to comfort me.  
  
I shivered, suddenly cold in my fancy dress. I was cold, I was tired, and I had another hour of misery before me. I wondered where Ada and Seolai were. I wondered if Mother was still dancing with Roderick. I wondered where Nat was. Was he still mad at me? Should I go to him and tell him the truth? Well, there was no question of that. I knew I should tell him the truth.  
  
I shivered again. I needed to dance, to move. Unfortunately, it was proper that the men ask the ladies, and so I would be at a loss for a partner until a man decided to ask me. I could always dance with the moonlight. I curtsied to the moon and started to dance around the fountain. I fancied that the moon turned into a man and danced with me. The moon-man twirled and spun me around until I was almost sick with dizziness.  
  
We sat down when I had warmed up a bit, on the edge on the fountain. I noticed my elegant -- and, by this time, cold -- dinner still sitting there. I asked the moon-man if he minded that I ate. He said no, so I picked up my fork and dug in. The moon-man sat next to me, watching me eat but not saying a word. I put down my plate half-way through the beef and bid the moon-man good-bye. Moon-men are fine dancing partners, but they're difficult to benefit from in any other form of life -- eating, talking, laughing, loving. . .  
  
I walked back into the ballroom to see if I could find any of my fellow sufferers of 'the great and terrible,' my sister and Seolai, or my mother and the duke. Or Nathaniel. Especially Nathaniel. Fine, I admit it, I was only looking for him. Maybe he was looking for me. . .or maybe he was pretending to forget me, having the time of his life dancing with the masquerading Princess Ariadne. Take a guess at which one he was doing.  
  
Right then, such a fierce jealousy burned in my meek heart for that beautiful princess that I shocked myself. I had no reason to doubt Nat's affection -- all right, love -- for me. Yet, I felt an almost hate for this woman I hardly knew. This must be the terrible part of love, this unreasonable hatred that grew alongside it.  
  
I brushed my bothersome hair out of my face with my hand and rubbed my sore shoulders. I was startled when a man approached me and asked me to dance. Forget startled, I was downright dumbfounded. I have never been thought of as a 'belle of the ball' (except in Nat's mind). Even Ada, who, God knows, loved me more than she loved anyone (even Gregory Lawson) always said I was funny or smart and never mentioned my looks. Father sometimes called me his clever beauty, but I think we can excuse that as parental blindness.  
  
Did I know him? I didn't think so, but he looked gentle enough, so I agreed. Leading me out to the middle of the room, he told me this name was Edmund Tanner. His name registered with me, he was one of Nathaniel's close friends, a lot like him, though a little more out-spoken. I told him mine, and he smiled a little, saying, "You're Cinders' sister, right?"  
  
"Cinders?" I answered, blankly.  
  
"Ella. Cinders. Eleanor, your step-sister."  
  
"Oh!" I cried. "She was telling the truth?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"She always complained everyone called her Cinders," I explained. "We always thought of it as one of her fabrications."  
  
Edmund blushed. "I'm afraid that name is of my own making."  
  
"Well, you needn't be sorry," I said, growing bold. "I dislike her as much as you, or anybody, possibly more."  
  
Edmund laughed. "Cinders is a bother. I remember the first day I saw her, at your mother's wedding. We were all younger than, you know, I was 15, and I think she was around 14. She was still beautiful, even at such a young age. More than half of the boys were mad for her, including me, until we saw her shopping a couple weeks after the wedding. She was with you, your sister, and her maid, picking out dresses. We all were pressed against the window to watch her and hear her. We saw her refuse dress after dress, insulting the dressmaker and you two in her side comments. 'Well, Ada might like it, but it isn't fit for anyone with any style,' Cinders would say.  
  
"Right then, we all decided she was horrid and nobody was in love with her any more. Except maybe Nat, but that only lasted for a couple more weeks. He hated her as intensely as anyone when he saw Cinders push you out of the carriage and into the mud. You should have seen him. Ooh, he was mad for days about that; he walked around muttering threats to Cinders' well-being under his breath and clenching his fists -- it's a good thing Cinders was a girl, we all said, or she would've had it from Nat." My dance with Edmund was finished, and I was breathless again -- this time, because of what Edmund had told me.  
  
Nat had been in love with Ella? I couldn't comprehend how he could've been. I didn't know whether to be jealous of Ella or happy that he was so mad after Ella pushed me into the mud. I smiled slightly, remembering that day when Ella shoved me out of the carriage. We had been shopping. . .  
  
"Irene, tell me, honestly," said Ada. "Does it look good on me?"  
  
"It looks lovely! Buy the hat all ready!"  
  
"Don't rush me, I'm going," Ada smiled, pulling out the three gold coins she had saved up for our weekly Saturday shopping spree.  
  
"Come on, let's go to the book store!" I cried when she had finished buying the hat, eager to spend my 15 gold coins. I had been saving for four weeks to get a book of poetry by Ky'loe from the back of the book store.  
  
"Can't. Ella's still looking," Ada explained.  
  
I groaned. "We've been here two hours. Does she need the whole day?" I made my way towards her, Ada being my shadow. I was especially mad at her that day because she had worn (and ruined) my best, favorite gloves without my permission. "Hurry up, Ella. You're making us late."  
  
"Oh, shut up, Reney. I'll take my time if I want to," Ella said snootily, looking through some expensive parasols.  
  
"You've all ready bought two hats and a new dress. Isn't that enough?" I asked her.  
  
"No, it's not, so go away."  
  
"You are not the only person who wants to buy something," I reminded her.  
  
"Well," Ella said, rather stupidly, "go buy it."  
  
"It's not here! It's a book."  
  
"Oh, I should've known. You're such a bookworm, Reney. You know, if you stopped reading books and hanging out with boys all the time, you --"  
  
"The point of this conversation was Hurry Up, Or We'll Be Late, not How To Change Irene's Life. Hurry up," I repeated.  
  
"You know, interrupting is a very rude thing to --" I was sick of it. I grasped her elbow and pulled her out of the shop and into our carriage, Ada behind us with a smirk on her face. I pushed her in and commanded the driver to take us to the book store and step on it.  
  
"You pig!" screeched Ella, suddenly grabbing both my wrists. "Don't you ever do that again! You worthless pig! Don't you touch me!" She let go of one of my wrists, but only to slap me across the face. Ada pulled her off me. Ella bit her and she yelped. Ella tore at me again, this time tunneling into me and pushing me half out of the door, which swung open. I swayed dangerously, holding onto the door handle, this close to falling.  
  
"Stop! Stop the coach!" screamed Ada to the driver. He did as requested, or at least, he tried. The horses were going too fast.  
  
Ella's fingernails dug into my skin. "You pig," she hissed once more before shoving me off the door -- and right into a puddle of mud right in front of Nathaniel Grey and Edmund Tanner.  
  
Nat helped me up and looked with pure hatred at the retreating carriage. Edmund put his hand on Nat's shoulder, to keep him from doing anything stupid. Nat sighed, took my hand, and walked me home. I never did get to buy my book of poetry.  
  
I could feel his hand in mine still. I wanted to hold it again. I felt cold, so cold. Not even a moon-man could fix this bitter coldness. It was inside of me, burrowed deep inside where I couldn't get at it, couldn't change it, just had to let it be.  
  
It wasn't as if I had become someone else, or that everything had changed. It was simply that I had stopped caring. Everyone else went through business as usual. Nothing had changed for them. No one saw me, alone. Everyone was in their own world -- in ones that I found I did not exist.  
  
The ball refused to end. It may never be a proven fact, but I bet being alone makes time go twice as slow. It does for me. Everyone I loved had found someone more interesting than me. I had never felt so alone in my whole life -- not even after Father died, not after William died, never. Then, I had still had Mother, I had had Ada, I had had Nat. Now I had no one. Not a soul -- not even a moon-man.  
  
Oh! I am too cruel. Never fear, most excellent readers, the next chapter is practically done and will be posted soon. Now, thank-yous to be doled out:  
  
Malista: Thanks ever so.  
  
Miss Piratess: I liked describing the ball, it was fun.  
  
Raspberry Girl: I bet you regret saying "I hope something comes between Nat and Irene" now, don't you? (Insert maniacal laughter) Kidding, that was all planned out before you posted. I'm glad you liked the love scene. I have to admit I was a little worried about it. My writing does improve as it goes, I promise.  
  
Turwen: The Disney one drives me up the wall, I've got to tell you.  
  
(Saved the best for last)  
  
Artemis: Once again, you review first! Just for that, I am allowing you to have Nat for one day. One day! After that, you have to give him back. About Ella -- I think, though she is excessively annoying, someone could still fall in love with her. After all, there are a lot of mean people who are married! As you can see from thuis chapter, the poor prince is head over heels. . .  
  
review review review review 


	4. Tomorrow

¤¤¤¤¤ Phillippa here! ¤¤¤¤¤  
  
Sorry my update took a while. The dying wasps that find the window next to my computer a sort of last hope and freak me out delayed it, along with this:  
  
Phillippa: type type type   
Computer: Hmm, I haven't been mean to Phillippa lately. . .(freezes)   
Phillippa: Ah! I hate, despise and otherwise LOATHE you, Computer! }  
Computer: (insert maniacal laughter here)   
Phillippa: (plans various revenge tactics)  
  
Just so you understand what I'm talking about, I'll inform you that I have rebooted my computer THREE TIMES today, and I've only been on it an hour. This is a weird chapter, because it's shorter than usual and a lot of things happen in it -- including Irene being assertive! I know, I know, very hard to believe.  
  
chapter four TOMORROW  
  
I felt very out of place there. I had loved balls, that's true, but it's hard to love anything when you are alone. I wished I had stayed at home, settled down with a good book, and wondered what had happened. Wait, no, if I hadn't gone to the ball, Nat might've not kissed me. . .or gotten angry with me. Now, I was feeling confused. . .was my going to the ball a good thing or a bad thing?  
  
I walked moodily around the dance-floor, looking for Ada or Mother or. . .anybody, really. I noticed girls from my neighborhood, dolled up and having immeasurable amounts of fun. Goodness! Wasn't anyone in this whole place even a tiny bit miserable?  
  
Irene, I told myself firmly, stop feeling sorry for yourself. Get a hold of yourself. It isn't the end of the world. Entertain yourself. Eat something. Do something.  
  
I moved over to the banquet tables. I stood in the food lines again, only this time there were about six people in it instead of sixty. I picked out some chicken and fruit. Not very much food, because I still wasn't feeling too hungry. I sat by several empty chairs and ate my dinner, watching swirling dresses and shiny shoes whiz by me. One of the dresses and shoes stopped in front of me. The dress had a head of golden hair, while the shoes had considerably darker skin.  
  
"Irene! I wondered where you had gone! Nat's out there --" Ada waved her hand vaguely toward the opposite side of the ballroom, "-- looking terribly silly. Why don't you --" Ada stopped and peered into my face. "Seolai, do you mind if I talk to me sister alone for a while?"  
  
Seolai said something about being over with his aunt, and he left. Ada took a seat right next to me. I ate in silence, trying not to look guilty of anything, but my hands were shaking a little. "Irene, whatever is the matter with you?"  
  
"Nothing's the matter with me, I just don't feel very much like dancing."  
  
"It doesn't look like you feel very much like eating, either," Ada said, eyeing my plate, and for one time in my life I wished my sister didn't know me so well.  
  
"I'm fine, Ada. I wish you would. . ." I trailed off, thinking of how many times I had told someone I was fine that night, and how many times I really was. It would be such a relief to not keep it a secret anymore. "Fine. Do you want to know the whole truth?"  
  
"Absolutely. Tell me everything," Ada said, shifting so she could look at me better.  
  
"You asked for it. . ." I launched into the story, trying not to leave anything out of it. The kiss, the dance, more kisses, Mother, the king's brother, keeping Ella a secret, the moon-man, the prince --  
  
"The prince!? The prince talked to you?"  
  
"Astonishingly enough, Ada. He opened his mouth, and words came out, and they made sense to me. . .almost as if he weren't from a different planet after all!"  
  
"Irene," Ada smiled. "I didn't mean it like that. . ."  
  
After the prince, there wasn't much more to say. "I don't even know if Nat still loves me, after what he said to me," I finished.  
  
To my surprise, Ada snorted. "You don't even know if he loves you? Who cares what he says? It's what he does, that's what's important. Take a gander at that, Irene. That, that is a man in love." Nathaniel was sitting at a banquet table. It didn't occur to me Ada saw him on the other side of the ballroom only a few minutes ago. I wasn't thinking of how fast he must've moved to get there so quickly. I was noticing the lack of smile, how his eyes seemed dull, how listless he seemed.  
  
"That's love?" I said, softly.  
  
"That is love when it's been denied," Ada answered.  
  
"I didn't deny him! My goodness, I kissed him twice, what does he think that means? That I'm denying his love? I haven't denied his love, I've accepted it!"  
  
"Calm yourself. I didn't mean you have denied his love. I am saying his love has reached a dead end," Ada said, shushing me a little. I took another look at Nat. It was awful, seeing him like that. Especially after I had seen his green eyes dance when he looked at me. Especially when I knew I was the cause of all of it.  
  
"I won't stand for it. Something must be done," I decided, getting up as fast as I could without knocking the chair onto the ground.  
  
"Irene?" Ada said, surprised, but I was all ready past her. I was walking across the room. I was going to tell Nathaniel. I had to tell him. There was no other choice. I couldn't leave him to be swept away by the amazing Princess Ariadne. He was mine first, and that was the way I was going to keep him. Mine.  
  
Nat saw me coming and half rose from his seat. "Irene, what --"  
  
"Come on. I have to talk to you," I told him, before I changed my mind. I breezed past the dancers and went straight to the balcony. I glanced back and saw, to my relief, Nat was following me, though he was looking slightly bewildered.  
  
"Irene, what --" Nat said again, once we were out on the balcony. I interrupted him again, this time with a kiss on the mouth. It successfully stopped all questions for the next straight five minutes. "All right," said Nathaniel, holding me tightly against him. "Now you've got to tell me what this is all about."  
  
I reached up and brushed his straw-colored hair out of his face. "You need a haircut," I informed him. He laughed.  
  
"You can't expect me to believe we went through all that for you to tell me that. You told me that yesterday." I did? Yesterday was such a long, long time ago.  
  
"All right, then, Nat. You need a haircut," I repeated, "and I love you."  
  
Nat, predictably, said nothing, but stared at me hard, as if he was trying to see inside of me.  
  
"I didn't tell you that yesterday, did I?" I asked him. Nat kept staring. My heart was ready to fall out and break in two. Then, Nat was laughing and kissing my face, and my heart was beating so fast I thought it would stop. It didn't stop, and neither did Nathaniel's loving gaze.  
  
"You have made me happier than any person in the whole entire world," Nat said, smiling. He couldn't stop smiling. Neither could I.  
  
"Happier than King Reynard?" I said.  
  
"A hundred times happier!" he announced, swinging me around in a circle. "Happier than Prince Lawrence?" I said.  
  
"A thousand times happier!" Nathaniel laughed.  
  
"Happier than Princess Ariadne?" I whispered.  
  
He looked into my face, pulled me close, and whispered softly in my ear. "A million times happier, my love."  
  
My friend. My love. My Nathaniel.  
  
It was a while until I realized the palace clock was clanging its boisterous bells again.  
  
"Nat," I said.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Nat. Nat. Nathaniel Abraham --"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"It's one o'clock."  
  
"And?"  
  
I gave him a look. "You told the coachman to pick us up now."  
  
"I did? You mean -- it's one o'clock?"  
  
"That is what I said."  
  
"What?" Nat let go of me to look at the clock and gave a little start of realization. "One o'clock," he breathed out. "One o'clock all ready."  
  
Here was a moment of silence. I leave it to you to decide how both our mouths happen to occupied at that moment. After this -- distractment -- we moseyed over to the ballroom. I wanted to speak to Ada for a moment and Nat had no objection. She bestowed upon me a knowing smile when Nat and I sat down next to her hand-in-hand.  
  
"Ada," I said over my plate, "Nat and I are going to leave soon. Could you tell Mother that --"  
  
"Tell her yourself, darling, she's right there," Ada interrupted.  
  
"No, Ada, we really have to go. I --"  
  
"Irene, I'm not going to be your messenger girl. You tell her. It's your bone to pick."  
  
Nathaniel eyed both of us suspiciously. "What's going on that you aren't telling me? Is this about before, when Irene wouldn't tell me what was the matter?"  
  
We exchanged looks. "No," I said at the same time Ada said, "Yes." Ada gave me another look, and repeated, "Yes, and we still won't tell you."  
  
I breathed a sigh of relief. Now, I had all my secrets wrapped up in a nice big bundle like yesterday's laundry. Nevertheless, Ada was pushing me towards Mother and I felt disinclined to go anywhere near her, at least until tomorrow. For some unexplainable reason, I was hearing voices.  
  
If you keep putting it off until tomorrow, one of these days you'll run out of them.  
  
I kept hearing them echo in my head. Things my father used to say. Things William used to say. Things in poems by Ky'loe. Things I knew, in a core of my heart, were true.  
  
Things I didn't want to be true.  
  
"Irene?" Nat was at my elbow, his worried face in mine.  
  
We had to go. The coachman would be waiting for us, and he wouldn't wait forever. There was always tomorrow to speak to Mother. . .  
  
Live like there's no tomorrow.  
  
"Irene, if we are going to go, we should go now."  
  
"Please, Ada, could you just talk to Mother for me?"  
  
If you keep putting it off until tomorrow, one of these days you'll run out of them.  
  
"Darling, what do you want to say?"  
  
"You mean you'll do it?" This was an unlooked-for blessing.  
  
"No, I mean she's right there, so go over there and just say it to her," Ada said.  
  
We had to go. What if the coachman thought we had decided to stay longer than we had intended to stay? I could talk to Mother tomorrow. . .  
  
Tomorrow. . .  
  
Tomorrow may be too late.  
  
"Irene! Nathaniel! I thought you would be gone by now!"  
  
Mother. The king's brother. Speak of the devil.  
  
"Oh, we just had some last minute talking to do --"  
  
"Irene wants a word with you, Mother," Ada interrupted me. I stared at her.  
  
"Oh." Mother took a glance at Roderick. "Well, if it's urgent. . ."  
  
"Very urgent," said Ada before I could say it wasn't.  
  
"Really? I suppose I could spare a few moments if you could."  
  
Ada pushed me away from Nat. He let go of my hand, several questions on his face. "Nat, I'll be right back, I promise. I --"  
  
"Irene, if this is urgent, we should probably go now," Mother put in helpfully.  
  
"Of course." Mother pulled me along to the balcony -- fateful place that it was -- and looked me right in the eye. "Mother, I want to ask you something."  
  
She waited patiently.  
  
"I wanted to ask. . .about Sir Roderick." He was a knight, wasn't he? I didn't know.  
  
Mother cocked her head slightly.  
  
"Are you. . .I mean, is he. . .are either of you. . ."  
  
I wished she would interrupt me and put me out off my misery.  
  
"Do you like him?" I asked.  
  
Mother blanched. "Like him? You mean -- do I have any feelings for him?"  
  
"Yes, that's what I mean. Do you? Please don't rush into anything. Don't do anything rash that might affect so many people."  
  
"Irene," said Mother with a sigh, "I have been widowed twice. What makes you think I am not able to make my own decisions?"  
  
She was right. I had been stupid to think my Mother, my fount of wisdom, could not decide correctly all by herself. I hung my head.  
  
"I noticed you are harboring feelings for a certain boy," she said cheerily, as if I had never brought up my doubt in her judgement.  
  
I smiled. Ada was right -- everyone could tell I was in love with him. "I will not deny that I am beginning to feel something for him. What do you think of him?"  
  
"He was an excellent friend, was he not? Then, I believe he shall be an excellent husband."  
  
Suddenly, he was there. Nat. "Are you finished with your urgent talk?" he asked with a smile. "Quite finished, I believe. If you and Mr. Grey wish to go, I will most graciously give you my leave." Mother winked at me before returning to Roderick and Ada.  
  
"What was that all about?" Nat asked me as we exited the castle.  
  
"What was what all about, love? It was just your average mother-to- daughter talk," I explained as Nathaniel helpfully pushed me into the carriage. He clambered in after me and reached out to take my hand.  
  
"Are you ready for some not-so-average friend-to-friend talk?" He questioned, moving himself even closer to me.  
  
"Hm, I'm not sure," I mused. "Does this not-so-average friend-to-friend talk include the words, 'I love you' or 'Kiss me?'"  
  
"In that order," Nathaniel chuckled and set my heart racing ever faster, which I had not thought possible. "I love you. Kiss me."  
  
"I'm still not sure. I might need a bit of coaxing. . ."  
  
"Kiss me. Tomorrow you might not have a chance."  
  
I leaned forward and did so. As Nat pulled me closer still, there was one thought in my mind besides how much I loved him. Tomorrow could come, and it would be okay, because there was nothing I had left undone.

There it is! Chapter four of who knows how many. My thanks to my amazing, extraordinary, marvelous, phenomenal, wonderful reviewers:  
  
GhastlyInnocence -- I have to admit, your name makes me wonder a little. . .thanks for your compliments and interest in the story.  
  
Flummoxed -- I'm glad you consider Irene normal. I always worry I make my characters too much like me, and I am NOT normal at all. Love and Moon-Men is a sad chapter, but this is a lot happier. I hope you liked it!  
  
TigerLily21 -- now that you've read both my Cinderella stories, what do you think? I'm actually working on a third one right now, but I can't promise anything. I don't know if it'll keep going or just putter out.  
  
e -- You are so welcome. It really bothers me when people don't use paragraphs and dialogue. It's so much more excting this way!  
  
Miss Piratess -- Pathetic? I am deeply insulted. Kidding, kidding. She isn't brave, that's for sure. . .I hope you enjoyed her assertive moments in this chapter. I've had an idea for a story you might like if you enjoy your heriones brave and assertive. A sort of mixed up Rapunsel. I'll leave you know if I actually start to write it. By-the-bye, I'm reading your fairy tale right now, and I have to say I love it (and Kat.) One of these days I'll get to reviewing it (winces, thinking of how horrible a reader she is. . .)  
  
Always last, but never least:  
  
Artemis -- Dear, I was very worried about you! I was expecting you to go crazy with the chance to have Nat to yourself for a day. He's just sat aound my computer, waiting for you. . .how did you like France? I've never been there, but my sister has. She says it's BEAUTIFUL, but the Eiffel Tower is disappointing. Thank you, for, again, reviewing to my story. I'm not sure if I want the Prince to fall out of love with Ella or what. What do you think? I hope my "love scenes" were good enough for you (wink.) Don't forget to tell me what happened on your day with Nat. He won't tell me anything, so I'm depending on you for the information. . .  
  
Also, to my readers: I have another Cinderella story posted, a one shot, titled Lady in Silver: a Cinderella Story in Letters. If you would read (and review) it for me, that would be so nice!  
  
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	5. Glass Shoes

¤¤¤¤¤ Phillippa here! (or there. It all depends, I guess) ¤¤¤¤¤  
  
Ah! I typed straight through the first four pages of this chapter and developed severe writer's block. Thankfully, it passed. There were no dying wasps, although the computer was in need of a brutal smacking. . .and the wasp population decided to send out one of its members to fly up my pant leg and sting me five times, marking what is something like my tenth bite/sting. (Sigh) I hate wasps. . .  
My brother (Computer Genius) fixed our wayward computer yesterday. I am now able to upate! Yip-hurray!  
I've decided to put my thank-you's before instead of after the chapter. Please forgive me for any inconvenience this may cause.  
  
My thanks to my growing number of fans. You are so awesome and I love all of you! Truly.  
  
RaspberryGirl -- I was wondering when you would come back and review again. I like the moon-man scene, too. It might even be my favorite. Oh, don't you worry that pretty little evil head of yours, because I have some big plans for re-turning poor Irene's life upside-down.  
  
Fantasychild2007 -- I think the reason Nat seems a little too perfect is because we're seeing him through Reney's eyes, and she's in love with him, after all. My computer problems seem to be unfixable, but I can dream. . . Thanks for reading my other story. I have an entourage? I wouldn't go THAT far. (wink)  
  
Flummoxed -- I love your name. It completely rocks. You still like Irene, even after I told you she's mostly like me? Yippee! I agree, I think she would be an excellent friend. Thank you for reading Lady in Silver. I thought more people would notice that they became more personal as time went on.  
  
Turwen -- Thank you, thank you, thank you.  
  
GhastlyInnocence -- Is "lots of kissing" such a bad thing? Hee hee hee. There's a little less kissing in this one. I hope (a) you're happy and (b) none of my kissing crazed fans will plot against you. What is so ghastly about innocence, anyway?  
  
Miss Piratess -- Nope, I'm not plotting against the mother. I just wanted to make her more like a person and less like a puppet. I'm hoping to explain all that in chapter six, but I'm more or less making it up as I go. Also, thanks ever so for reading Lady in Silver. I hope by "more realistic" you mean more realistic than the original story rather than this story. I always thought it was weird that he could fall completely in love and want to marry a girl after only knowing her for one night! PS - your stories rock.  
  
Tiger Lily21 -- Is it strange to say that my best story is always my latest one? That's what it seems like to me. I'm going to e-mail you the first chapter of my third Cinderella story ASAP. I'll tell you that it's titled "Leila the Runaway" so you can imagine what it's like before you lay eyes on it. Thanks for your encouragement!  
  
Artemis -- Interesting. . .neither you or Nat will tell me what happened. . .naughty you! I think I might have the prince WARNING POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT fall out of love, or rather, be shocked out of love in much the same way as Nat and all the boys that loved her before. Poor Lawrence the fifth or forth. He is so nice, it makes me want to smack Ella even more.  
  
chapter five  
GLASS SHOES  
  
I woke up and the sunshine was streaming through the window. Birds were singing outside. I let myself drift back to the night before with a sigh. Life was perfect.  
  
For almost one whole second.  
  
"What are you talking about? I never went to the ball. I was here the whole night, cleaning the basement! Didn't you look down there? You think the basement just cleaned itself while I was at the ball?" Ella's voice screeched along the hallways. I winced and mumbled a few groans to the sunshine glaring at me before lifting myself off my old rickety bed. I opened my practically bare closet and extracted an ordinary red working gown.  
  
"Ella, be reasonable. All of us saw you there, at the castle. No one saw you here, where you should've been." I plodded down the hard wood steps and came into the shop.  
  
"Shop opens in an hour, Mother," I whispered to her, coming up behind her.  
  
"I know, dear, just let me finish with Ella." Ella looked disheveled -- lovely golden hair askew, perfect skin blotched by the soot of the cinders, wearing a dingy dress that was once elegant. She would never take any second-hand things.  
  
"Late night?" I asked. "Don't forget, Ella, dear, oranges are the only thing that will get that soot off you. If you'd like some, you'll have to go to the market for them."  
  
"You!" Ella screamed. "Pig!"  
  
"That's lovely, dear. When you're finished buying the oranges, you could buy some more bread and vegetables, we're out of them."  
  
"I hate you!"  
  
"I know, dear. If you don't think this is enough," I commented, gently cracking open her hand, which was clenched in a threatening fist, and plunking five gold coins into it, "you could always skip the oranges."  
  
"Pig! You --"  
  
"Dears! Please, please. Irene, could you -- could you check stock for me?" Mother said, a pleading look in her eyes.  
  
"Of course I could." I strode into the stock room with a funny feeling in my chest. Saying what you wanted and not being so scared -- that felt good. I looked over the stock room. Parasols in one corner, dresses and hats in another, shoes and purses in yet another. A table stood in the last corner, with several papers on it. Ada's neat scrawl filled most of the pages, mostly uniform. Every couple of entries, she wrote something like "expensive" or "save one for Mrs. Nuires."  
  
Three red dresses with pink bows and matching hats. . .check. Seven yellow parasols with blue trim. . .check. Two pairs of red polished shoes. . .check. One huge, purple purse (extremely ugly). . .check. Dull, monotonous work, but it calmed me after the fight with Ella.  
  
I was on the last page when something caught my eye. Six pairs of glass shoes. I remembered when they had come in, Ada and I had tried to walk in them. They gave me horrible blisters and were uncomfortably small. Not to mention, I was so nervous I was going to trip and break them, I had to concentrate wholly on walking. . .those silly glass shoes.  
  
Six pairs of glass shoes. I dropped all the sheets of paper with a gasp. Shoes. . .glass shoes. . .very slowly, the prince took from behind his back one glass shoe. . .Ella! I had to check, had to make sure before I did anything regrettable. . .  
  
Five pairs of ridiculous, clear crystal, size four shoes met my eyes. There was one less pair of glass shoes then there was supposed to be.  
So? What did that mean? Perhaps the missing pair of glass shoes were just Ada forgetting she had sold a pair again. . .like in the case of the expensive green dress. Somehow, I knew that all my excuses were for naught. I had told the prince how to find Ella. He would find her with the other glass shoe, I knew he would.  
  
Wasn't this what I wanted? I leaned down and began to collect the sheets of paper. I held the last one in my hands. Six pairs of glass shoes. Ella would be gone from my life forever. My heart pounded desperately in my chest. Maybe I was getting worked up over nothing, and Ella was not Prince Lawrence's secret love.  
  
At a time that would rank extremely high in the list of "Bad Times to Enter a Room," Ella burst through the door of the stock room. I dropped the papers again and felt very much like swearing, a feeling that doesn't come over me that often. "You need something?" I asked calmly, instead of swearing. Ella looked as if she might explode.  
  
"PIG!" she shrieked.  
  
"You said that all ready," I reminded her, picking up and reorganizing the papers that I was not going to drop again. "Anything new?"  
  
Ella spouted off a few new things I had not heard directed towards me before and came up with a couple of barbaric, though not very original, threats -- you know, being buried alive, being suffocated with a ribbons, or any other cruel form of death that she could think up off the top of her head. At least, I hope it was off the top of her head. I'd hate to think that she actually spent valuable time thinking up horrible ways for me to die.  
  
On the whole, the conversation was rather uneventful. None of the impending doom Ella said was going to come actually came, but she stomped around the stock room several times. I didn't lose my temper or shout or match her threats with some of my own. She left the room, disappointed, and I finished taking inventory of The Fairy's Shoppe, with such thoughts as "The prince must have gone crazy" and "I despise carrots." That last thought came after Ada returned from market (Ella ended up not going, what a shock) with so many carrots. Ada loves carrots more than any other vegetable and buys all she can when it's her turn to go to market.  
  
I felt strange. The new way I considered everything, the new way I talked, thought. What brought forth this change? Love? I doubted it -- it seemed too easy an answer.  
  
I had more important things to think about than why I felt so much braver than I use to feel. Namely, Ella. The prince had evidently done a male thing and been blinded by her looks and fake charm. Hopefully, he would realize in time what Ella really was, which would hopefully be enough to shock all the lovely feelings out of his infatuated self.  
  
The door bell clanked its warning as a customer stepped through the door. Had an hour passed all ready? It seemed impossible. I dashed out of the stock room, patting my old working dress self-consciously and starting the customer drill before I saw the face. "Hello and welcome to The Fairy's Shoppe, how may I help you?"  
  
"Irene, it's only me."  
  
"Oh, Nat," I said, easing back into my own personality.  
  
"You needn't sound so disappointed, Reney. I came to give you something," Nathaniel explained. I was confused, since I didn't see any package in his hands.  
  
"Give me what?" I asked, suspicious.  
Nat looked flabbergasted, as if I had just insulted his pride. "You don't want it?"  
  
"Oh, come on, Nat, come off it," said Ada, walking into the room.  
  
"Morning, morning, everyone." I gave her a glare for the carrot-buying. "What, are you still upset?"  
  
"You know how much I hate them."  
  
"And you know how much I love them, so we're even." Nat looked from Ada to me to Ada and shook his head, as if we were hopeless. "Excuse me, Mr. Grey. Was I interrupting you as you proclaimed your undying love to my sister? Do go on."

"I was doing nothing of the sort," Nat said blushing. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he sputtered, "All right, I was doing something of the sort."  
  
"Glad to hear it," Ada replied.  
  
"Don't sound so stuffy, Ada, dear. I believe a man from the far away land of Jhiline is here to see you. . ." I said.  
  
"Seolai? Where?" I gave a snort of laughter. "Oh, I'll get you back for that, Irene." With that, she strolled out of the room.  
  
"So, love," I started, after Ada had started singing 'Ella, Dear.' "What did you come to give me? Another kiss?"  
  
"No, not a kiss."  
  
"But, what could be better than a kiss?" I asked, doubtful. Nat laughed, a strong laugh that made me want to faint of happiness.  
  
"Well, it may not be better than a kiss, but you'll love it, I know it."  
  
"Let's have it, then, love," I said, opening my palm out to him. He grabbed my hand and kissed it before pulling me (gently, for it was not as if I was resisting) out of the Shoppe. "Nat, what about Mother. . ." I asked him as we walked down the street.  
  
"She knows all ready," he assured me.  
  
"Nathaniel Grey, what are you up to?"  
  
"Am I not allowed to give presents to the woman I love? If I'd have known that, I wouldn't have gone through all the trouble. . ."  
  
"Nat, you, you. . ."  
  
"Dolt?" He put in helpfully.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder why I love you."  
  
"Well, all things considered, that's better than wondering if you love me," Nat said, stopping.  
  
"Oh, now don't act insulted."  
  
"I'm not. We're here."  
  
"Here?" We were at the bookshop. "This is your gift?"  
  
"It's inside, love."  
  
"Ah."  
  
We entered the bookshop. Mr. Mus, the bookkeeper, came bustling into the room and smiled at the sight of me. "Miss Graham," he said, formally. "Mr. Grey, you are most welcome to my store."  
  
Nat drew himself up to full height (which wasn't that tall.) "We're here for Miss Irene's gift."  
  
"I thought that would be the case. Lucinda! Lucinda, child, someone is here." Lucinda Mus, a pretty and rather clever girl, came in and tilted her head to the side, as if to say, "Yes?" "Mr. Grey would like his -- package, now." She gave a nod and disappeared into the back room. Lucinda was back in the bat of an eye, holding what you would suspect to find in a bookshop. A book, of course.  
  
There were several affirmative nods given, and we left the shop, Nat holding the book and refusing to let me see it. "Usually, when someone is given a gift, they receive it, meaning they have it."  
  
"That's only usually, love."  
  
There was a short silence as we walked down the sidewalk, our hands holding each other's. "Love --" I started. A very royal-looking carriage interrupted me by flying down the street, noisily rumbling past us.  
  
"Hm, what do you suppose brings the royalty of Bolton into the populace?" Nat wondered aloud, watching the gilded buggy sweep through the streets.  
  
Glass shoes, I thought. "I don't know," I said. "Probably to tell us who our new queen is."  
  
"I'd forgotten that's what the ball was about," Nathaniel admitted. "I was. . ."  
  
"Too busy thinking about me?" I said with a laugh. Nat smiled at me before pulling me into a kiss. "Oh, Nat, not here, not in front of every --"  
  
Too late.

"Nat, may I have my book now?" I asked as we approached my doorstep after the walk down the winding street. Nathaniel heaved a melodramatic sigh and started to hand it over.  
  
"Wait," he said and kissed me lightly on the cheek, slipping it into my hands. "Now you may have your book."  
  
I ripped the brown paper off and gasped. _Poems by Ky'loe_, it read in silver script. "Nat, how did --" I started, but he was gone. I opened the first page. Nat had written something in it!  
  
_Dearest Irene, love and friend,  
You have made me the happiest man in the whole world. I love you. Enjoy the poems. I know how much you wanted this book, after watching you stare after it every time we passed the bookshop. Read thirty-seven for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.  
Nat_  
  
"Oh!" I breathed. I flipped the pages eagerly until I reached poem thirty-seven. I stood in front of the door and held _Poems by Ky'loe _to my chest. I love you, I love you, I love you.  
  
The royal carriage had passed Nat and I on our walk home, but we had overtaken it at the butcher's. It now was alarmingly close to the Fairy's Shoppe. Glass shoes, I repeated to myself, remembering the five pairs of them in the stock room and swallowing. I shut _Poems by Ky'loe_ swiftly and opened the door, entering and closing the door.  
  
What could I do? Hide Ella? Lock her in the cellar? No, that would be silly. She would wonder why she was being locked up, and she might have all ready guessed what brought "the royalty of Bolton into the populace," as Nat had put it. No, that wasn't the way to do it at all. Maybe I could just let it happen. . .  
  
And someday face Queen Ella, the ruler of my country. No! No, that couldn't work. Maybe I could accidentally break the glass shoe. I've always been a tad clumsy, except when I was dancing. Or, perhaps the prince will put the shoe on the wrong foot. No, I can't bank what could possibly be the fate of my country on the chance the prince has forgotten Ella's face. Besides, it is not the easiest face to forget.  
  
My mind felt completely blank. Void of ideas, I walked out of the entry-way and into the store room. Ada stood to the side of the desk, looking at a light green dress that she's been ogling at for ages. I could ask her what to do. . .after explaining about the glass shoes. I sighed. Today was going to be a long day.  
  
"Reney?" Ada had snapped out of her dream (probably dancing with Seolai or something like that) and noticed me. "How was your trip with Nat?"  
  
"He gave me this." I placed _Poems by Ky'loe _on the desk for Ada to see.  
  
"So, your love is a spontaneous giver of longed-for gifts?" Ada mused, flipping through the pages.  
  
I gave a small smile. "I guess so. He never did give a reason for giving me it." I stopped and thought. Why had he given it to me?  
  
"Oh, Irene, don't worry. I wouldn't mind getting a few spontaneous gifts myself. . .did you finish taking stock?"  
  
"Yes," I answered with a swallow. Glass shoes. I licked my lips and started, "Ada, what do you think we should do about Ella?"  
  
"I think Mother can handle her, personally."  
  
"Yes, but what if. . .what if the prince. . .tried to find her?"  
  
"Reney, whatever do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, what if Ella. . .without trying to. . .had left something. . .behind?" I was trying hard to make it all sound like speculation on my part, but I wasn't sure if I could explain all of it without admittting that it was my fault.  
  
"Like her skirt?" Ada asked with a grin, no doubt picturing Ella fleeing the palace with only half her dress. I pushed that image out of my head and tried to clarify myself.  
  
"Like that, kind of. . .only. . .something that would only fit her. . .like a shoe." I tried to say this like it had just popped into my head, and I think I succeeded because Ada had a thoughtful look on her placid face.  
  
"Well, I guess that could happen. Are you saying the prince is going to scour the whole city for a single girl? For Ella?"  
  
"If he really is in love with her, don't you think he would try to find her?"  
  
"I'm still confused. Why couldn't he just ask his parents who she was? Using a name sounds more plausible than a shoe," Ada said, unconciously stroking the green dress as she thought.  
  
"Yes, but what if Ella didn't tell the prince her name?"  
  
"Reney, that's a whole lot of what if's. What if the prince isn't in love with Ella at all? What if he fell for Selina, Seolai's aunt? Or someone else? The possiblilties are almost endless."  
  
I was going to have to tell Ada everything. "Ada, I know that Prince Lawrence is going to search for Ella with one of her glass shoes that she left behind. I know this," I continued, "because I told him to do it."  
  
Ada reacted the way I was fairly positive she would. "What?!" she screeched, her voice climbing up an octave. "You what?!"  
  
"Ada, I didn't know he had fallen in love with Ella. . .or had become infatuated, or whichever you think. I wasn't sure, because he didn't know her name. . .it could've been anybody. . .then, when I was taking stock. . .I saw there was one less pair of glass shoes than there was supposed to be." Ada's face had completely lost all the calm that had been there before. "I put two and two together. . .and realized that Prince Lawrence is coming after Ella. And now. . .now I don't know what to do. Ella can't marry the prince and become queen one day. . .but I don't know how to stop it from happening."  
  
"Well," Ada sighed, sliding into the chair behind the desk. Her initial shock seemed to have rubbed off and tranquility returned to her face. "We certainly have a bit of a situation on our hands."  
  
"A bit," I agreed, leaning against the wall beside her. "Well, I've all ready ruled out locking her in the cellar --"  
  
"Really? That's too bad," Ada said. "I suppose you are right. She would make a ruckus and, in the end, end up with the prince anyway. Though shoving Ella down the stairs would be very satisfying. . ."  
  
"Ada! We're supposed to be figuring out a way to stop Ella from marrying the prince. This is serious," I reminded her and watched the smile fall from her face.  
  
"Right again," she sighed, and then we sat down to really think.  
  
This time, when you review, tell me your favorite part from this chapter and why. . .or, if you abhored this chapter, what was your favorite scene in a different chapter and why. . .or your favorite character and why. . . THE WHY PART IS IMPORTANT!  
  
Also, I'm not sure Sisters and Step-Sisters is the best title for this story. If anybody has another idea. . .it would be nice of them to share it with me.  
  
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	6. Secrets and Lies

Phillippa here!

Wowowowow! That was like the quickest update EVER for me! Not many people reviewed, but I guess that's my fault for taking so long last time (and the STUPID STUPID STUPID computer's.)

My thanks to my loyal and true (or just really bored) reviewers:

Turwen -- I hope I know how sisters should talk, with all the talking I do with my OWN sister.

Arein -- (gasps) Are you implying that I would throw things? Just kidding. I thank you for embracing your hopelessly romantic state instead of denying it! I'm sorry, but this chapter has NO Irene-Nat in it. (frowny face)

erin -- hey! A new reviewer! Although this was not inspired by Ella Enchanted at all, I thank you for your comments that my story is original. That is big on my list of "Ways to Make a Story Awesome."

Artemis -- oink oink oink! What a pig! I'm sorry, didn't mean you dear, it's just that Ella just ate ALL my chocolate bars I was going to give you, and now I don't have anything. . .sigh. Don't drool too much! It could ruin your keyboard!

Tiger Lily21 -- Aieee! I'm still not done with the fist chapter of Leila the Runaway, so sorry! It's almost done, I pro-pro-promise! (runs to read Nicole: Fairy Godmother Extrodaniare) Hope to hear from you soon!

LilliannaRose -- Oh, dear! I am SO SO SO sorry that I did not thank you for reviewing last chapter. I was just so excited that I could update that I forgot! Please, please, please forgive me! (PS - DOWN WITH ELLA!)

Miss Piratess -- Thanks about the title. Don't worry, Lawrie (as I like to call the infatuated prince) will realize all about Ella soon enough!

and now, the chapter you've all been waiting for. . .

Ada sat silently, and no new ideas came to my mind. My best one seemed to be to break it, but doubtless Ella had the other shoe. Useless, useless, useless. Was there no sure-fire way to keep this from happening?  
  
Ada snapped her fingers. "I've got it!"

"What?" I asked excitedly.  
  
"No, no, it won't work." She frowned and twisted her blonde hair around her finger absently.  
  
I groaned a little and twisted my own hair. We both did it from nerves and habit. My thoughts were less "will this work?" and "will that work?" and more "nothing will work" and "Ella's going to become Queen after all." The situation was dire.  
  
Ella entered, unaware of our discussion. She seemed much calmer, a sort of calm you detect with a cat after it caught a mouse. This worried me. What could Ella be so satisfied about? She seemed to be even more soot-covered than before, though I was sure that Mother hadn't told her to clean the fireplace. A placid smile was on her face, and her eyes and a dreamy look in them.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" Ada snapped. I remembered how she had to stop me from making a scene last night. No scruples had she with arguing, but she had pride that sometimes drove me crazy.

"What are you so unhappy about?" Ella asked sweetly, walking over to us. It looked like she had purposely smudged her face with her sooty hands, but she had obviously taken a bath and done her hair, and I was almost positive that she was wearing her nicest, most whole dress. Something was going on in that evil simple-minded brain of hers, and that worried me even more. "It's a beautiful day."

Ella was right about that, I thought, looking out the window. The sky was clear blue, and the sun shone down on the small capital city of its small country of Bolton. The cool April wind blew refreshingly down the street, and almost every face was smiling.  
  
And the golden carriage was closer than ever. . .  
  
I turned back to Ella. Her placid smile had been replaced by a malevolent grin. "You see it, don't you?"

I grabbed Ada's arm and held on tight. "Reney-let-go-of-me!" Ada said in a weird sort of chant. Ella's grin widened.  
  
"You've got it right, Ada, dear. The poor stupid prince will be here any minute. And when he sees my glass shoe. . ."

Wait a minute -- how did Ella know I knew? Oh, she must've known I would realize it when I took stock. . .but -- "I don't understand, Ella," I said, deciding that letting Ada speak was the wrong idea. "Why did you run from the prince?"  
  
"Obviously," Ella sneered. "I had to clean the cellar. And after all," she went on, voice dripping with open sarcasm, "absence does make the heart grow fonder. But," -- a sigh -- "how would His Infatuated Highness find his true love? That's where the shoe came in." Ella's dainty foot extended from underneath her skirts. "Thankfully, glass shoes have gone out of style. Otherwise, my plan would've never worked."

Ella's devious plan astonished me so much that my with-holding grip on Ada's arm lessened. She broke free.  
  
"Go ahead," Ella said, in that annoyingly innocent voice. "Hit me. It will only reinforce what I say when I tell Lawrence about how my evil step-family forced me to do all their work and treated me like a slave."

Ada froze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Prince Lawrence the Forth/Fifth climb back into his carriage. Time was running out, and we still had no plan. As we all stood there in the shop, staring at each other, Mother came in through the door with a bundle under her arm.  
  
"No customers? That's odd. I suppose they're at lunch. Although, we didn't have much business this morning, either. I guess everyone slept in because of last night." By this time, I was standing behind the desk, rustling through papers, Ada was straightening the shoes, and Ella was wandering aimlessly past the dresses.

Mother laid her package on the desk and gave me a smile. "How was your excursion with Mr. Grey?"  
  
I smiled, too, tracing the word Poems with my finger. "Heavenly." I love you, I love you, I love you.  
  
"I picked this up from the general store. I think it might be those straw hats I ordered for summer." The prince exited another house. I twisted a brown strand of hair nervously around the finger that had been on my new book. "Oh," Mother groaned as she opened it. "More of those glass shoes. Honestly, I never understood that short-lived fad. That brings our grand total to. . . Irene, didn't you do stock this morning?"  
  
"Yes," I said in a small voice. Mother hadn't noticed that both Ada and Ella's eyes were glued on the package. "There are five pairs in there."

Mother shook her graying head. "I knew I shouldn't have ordered these. What are we going to do with twenty-five pairs of glass shoes that no one wants?" Neither Ada nor Ella answered her, and I was a bit preoccupied with the royalty walking up to our door, who without a doubt wanted a glass shoe. "What's wrong with all of you today? I know that last night was as perfect as a dream, but that's no excuse to --"

Knock, knock. Mother twirled around, her slender eyebrows knitted together. She went to the door in three quick strides and started to speak as she opened the door. "This is a store, and you may feel free to open the -- oh."

Prince Lawrence stood there in all his royal grandeur. I had followed her, hoping some last minute plan would come to my mind. Ada was close behind, her round face still burning red from anger.  
  
"Excuse me, madam. May I intrude upon you this fine afternoon?"  
  
"Yes," she squeaked. As if she could say no to a prince.  
  
The prince, looked dapper as usual stepped into our shop, followed by his most trusted advisor, his uncle Roderick. Sir Roderick passed Mother without a second glance, but I swear I saw him wink at her.  
  
Honestly. At their age, winking!  
  
Of course, right then my mind was engaged with the other royal family member in front of me. Ada, Mother and I all curtsied, and I saw his mind recollecting me and remembering my face. "Ladies," he murmured.  
  
"Now," said Sir Roderick, all business. "The reason we have come --"  
  
"Uncle, wait. Is this not the Gloria Graham?" The Gloria Graham? What did he mean? What could Mother possibly be known for . . ?  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty, this is Mrs. Graham," Sir Roderick informed him. Prince Lawrence smiled weakly, and I noticed how tired he seemed.  
  
"I thought I recognized you," he stated, addressing me. Mother and Sir Roderick looked confused, and Ada smirked. "You look much like you mother." Mother and I looked at each other. I saw my silver blue eyes, my too small nose, my slim face, my too full lips, and my tan skin. Of course, my hair was Father's hair, brown straight hair. Mother's beautiful dark golden curls had all gone to Ada, but the rest of Ada, save her nose, was all Father's genes.  
  
"What do you mean, the Gloria Graham?" Ada said, suddenly. Evidently, she was too awe-struck before to realize the emphasis.  
  
"What do you mean what do I mean, miss?" asked Sir Roderick, with Prince Lawrence the Fourth/Fifth looking equally puzzled.  
  
"I mean what are you implying by saying that our mother is the Gloria Graham? I was never aware there was more than one. Is there?"  
  
"I do not remember any other Gloria Graham, miss," replied Sir Roderick.  
  
"All right, then," I spoke up. "Why is she the Gloria Graham?" Sir Roderick only stared at Mother.  
  
When Mother finally spoke, her voice sounded resigned and sad. "Roderick," she said, softly. "I did not tell them."

"You did not tell them, Gloria? In Heaven's name, why not?"

"I saw no reason to. Their father agreed with me, and my second husband never knew. Life was simpler without having them live day after day with the knowledge that their mother --" Mother took a deep breath. "That their mother is the king's cousin."

"What?" I said.  
  
"What?" Ada said. "We're royalty? Duchesses or something?"

"No," answered Mother. "Not duchesses. My parents were the Earl and Countess Kymesak."

"I'm a Countess?" Ada said, in a hushed voice.  
  
"Not technically," put in Sir Roderick. "Your mother stepped down from the role about a half-year after she married your father, Thomas Graham, whom she met at a ball much like the one last night. Because she was the only child of the Earl and Countess Kymesak, your grandparents, the present Earl Kymesak, another of your mother's cousins, Andrew, took over the role."

"I don't believe it. You walked away from being a Countess for this?" Ada seemed angry for some reason I could not grasp. Though, the news was certainly incredible. She must have met up with Roderick -- my cousin -- at the ball and talked about the past. Of course, she did not have any feelings for her own cousin! But she could not explain herself if she was trying to keep it all a secret.

"Ada, dear, you could say I walked away from being a Countess, but that is not the real truth. I was forced to leave my role when they found out I had married your father, who was but a shopkeeper, in secret. They wanted me to divorce him, but --" Mother gave a tired smile. "As Roderick has been so polite to exclude it, I assume he is leaving me to tell you the whole story. I was all ready pregnant with you, dear, so I could not divorce him. So, I abdicated. For your father and for you."

"Oh," said Ada, very softly.  
  
In the small silence that followed, there came a loud banging from the cellar. We all turned to face it, and I realized why something had seemed not quite right. Ella was gone. She had gone into the cellar, to further put into effect her lies. She would say we had locked her there, so the prince could not find her.  
  
"Is there another lady in the house?" asked Prince Lawrence, puzzled.  
  
No, I thought. Ella is no lady.  
  
"One," said Mother, walking to the door. "My step-daughter, Ella Broen." She twisted the handle, and then stared. She had not expected it to be locked. "That's odd," she thought aloud, and dug out her key and unlocked it. "Ella, dear?" she called as she opened the rickety old door.  
  
I heard a horrendous but all-too-familiar shriek. "What is it? Have you come to torment me again?" Ada, Mother and I all shook our heads, knowing Ella. Sir Roderick and the prince looked all together confused.  
  
"Ella, we have visitors who wish to see you."  
  
"Who? Who is there in this town that does not scoff at the sight of me, laugh at my dirty clothes, or call me Cinderella? Who is there who would wish to see me, who is but a lowly servant?" Ada and I gave each other looks. Ella was putting in all the theatrics she could manage.  
  
"Just come up, dear, and you'll see," Mother called.  
  
Ella came up, and what a sight she was! Full of even more dirt and grime than before, she walked with an air of someone defeated, instead of the prideful strut she usually had. "Yes, Step-Mother?" Ella asked, in a soft, meek voice I had never heard from her lips before.  
  
"Prince Lawrence the Four -- Fi -- Prince Lawrence has come to our house, along with his advisor, the king's brother, Sir Roderick."  
  
"Your Majesty," greeted Ella, sweeping a curtsy.  
  
Prince Lawrence seemed to have lost the ability to speak. He gawked at Ella, taking her figure and face in as if he had never seen her before. Ella kept her eyes focused on the floor. "Miss," said Sir Roderick, glancing at Prince Lawrence. "We would like you to try on this --"  
  
"No," breathed the prince. "Uncle, it is her, I have found her! There is no need for the glass shoe."

"Glass shoe?" asked Ella, finally looking up. "You have my glass shoe?"

"Oh! I thought I had lost you forever!" cried the prince, stepping towards her.

What could we do? Ada, Mother and I stood there like the stuffed dummies we used to show off new dresses. Mother was looking at Sir Roderick, I was looking at the prince, and Ada was looking at Ella. Sir Roderick's eyes flitted from one person to the other, and he opened his mouth to speak. "Maiden, why are you dressed so?"

All eyes focused on the dress. "It is my step-family, sir. They treat me much like a servant. When my father died, they sold all my dresses and forced me to wear their old ones."

"That is not true!" Ada and I corrected together.  
  
"They may refute it all they wish, but it is true, my lord."

"But -- but, maiden," Sir Roderick stammered.  
  
"Please, tell me your name," begged Prince Lawrence, who must have been deaf to the last few statements. "Is it Ella, like your step-mother said?"

"It is," Ella answered, in that same submissive voice she had probably used last night.  
  
"Ella," the prince whispered.  
  
"Your Highness, I would like to put in a word --" started Sir Roderick.  
  
"Uncle, who cares about anything else? I have found her!"

"Yes, but she --"

"-- is perfect," finished the prince.  
  
"Lawrence," said Sir Roderick, loudly, snapping the prince out of whatever spell Ella had over him. "I went against your parents's wishes when I allowed you to find your princess. Here I must draw the line. This lady has said that the Grahams treated her 'much like a servant' after her father died. How could my cousins -- your cousins -- do such a thing? We spoke with them before, did they seem like the kind of people who would treat anyone like a servant."

"Cousins?" whispered Ella.  
  
"No, Uncle, but my chosen one would not lie. Perhaps they are only acting gracious and kind," Prince Lawrence argued.  
  
"Perhaps your chosen one is the one who is acting," commented Sir Roderick.  
  
"Acting?" whispered Ella.  
  
Prince Lawrence looked at Ella, whose face had gone white as mist in the morning. "Do not speak in such a way to my chosen wife."

"You spoke that way about our cousin, of whom we know much more and have known for much longer."

"Yes -- but --" The prince looked at us again. "Do you swear that what you have said is the honest truth? Would you swear it on the Bible?"

"I would," I said solemnly. Ada and Mother both nodded their consent. Prince Lawrence looked confused and mystified, and Ella's face had turned to a familiar red hue. However ghastly Ella was, I doubted even she could swear that a lie was the truth on the Bible. Although we called her evil in our song, I had suspicion that she was more greedy, money-hungry and lazy than evil.  
  
Her carefully laid plan was dying as quick as the fad of the glass shoes.  
  
"Ella?" The poor prince's handsome face was crestfallen, but it had a hint of hope. He still had confidence that she could make it all right again.  
  
Ella said nothing, but her eyes glistened with tears. Could it be that it was not all an act? Could it be that she really did have feelings for the prince? No, it was impossible. She was only a spoiled, materialistic brat.  
  
"Your Highness," said Mother, like one speaking out of the darkness. "I would like to apologize. My step-daughter has done you great damage. I --"

"No!" belted Prince Lawrence, unexpectedly. "No," he repeated himself. "My dear cousin, it is I who should apologize to you." Ella's eyes spilled over, tears started plummeting down her face. "I am sorry for the distress I have caused you. I am --" He took an unstable breath. "I am indebted to you."

"No," Ella echoed, almost inaudibly, as the prince and Sir Roderick left our shop.  
  
So, faithful readers, what do you think? Is Ella just an extremely good actress, or could she really have feelings for (sigh) the poor prince of Bolton?  
  
review review review review


	7. Tangled Web

Phillippa Here!

Did this take a really long time? I don't know, I've just started high school and I think my brain is fried. This chapter is all good until, like, the last two pages, and then there's a bunch of fights and I end with the WORST CLIFF-HANGER EVER. I know you'll complain, so I'd like to blame Miss Piratess, who has evidently had a baaaaaad influence on me, since I have never done a meanie cliff-hanger before EVER. I'd also like to thank my ABSOLUTELY FANTABULOUS (which actually is a word, I looked it up in my ABSOLUTELY FANTABULOUS dictionary) reviewers!

Arein -- She is quite the actress! But she might love him . . .

Artemis -- I forgive you for not reviewing as soon as you usually do, because, as you may remember, my own computer (whose name is Max) is really a pain in the . . . you-know-what. Sir Roderick is a very good boy for preventing Lawrence from doing such a stupid thing. (pats Sir Roderick, who gives me the Look)

Erin -- Well, she did put more cinders on her face to make herself look pathetic, but she may love our Prince Lawrence after all . . . your wish is my command, though what Nat and Irene say to each other, you may not like at all. (sorry!)

LilliannaRose -- Too right "stupid Ella." She is a very nasty person, but she might have a heart under all that (checks with a stethoscope but can't find anything) Um . . . or she could be just a nasty, heartless person. Ah! Thank you for forgiving me.

Miss Piratess -- Ah, Ella. A Definitely Complex Character if I've ever written one. And she does have tender feelings . . . I think.

stubble96 -- Hello! Thank you, thank you and thank you again. I don't think I'm spoiling anything if I say that Ella does no _always_ end up with the Prince in stories, but she might.

Tiger Lily21 -- I'm planning on sending you the story ASAP. I had like a brainstorm or something, because now I'm on the third chapter (cheers).

Turwen -- Sisters rock. At least, mine does.

All right, time for the readers to decide -- but, sorry, not a very big decision, kind of a wimpy one (OH WELL!) -- if you want me to include the poems I wrote for each chapter that kind of "goes along" with the chapter title? For an example, see this chapter's poem. Yes, I say Ky'loe wrote it, but in case you are WAY gullible, I made Ky'loe up. Sorry to disappoint you. ON WITH THE CHAPTER ALL READY! (sorry I yelled so much, I guess it has something to do with me being brain-fried or something)

PS -- I want all my readers to go read 1) Magic by elvengirl9, which is ABSOLUTELY FATABULOUS if anything is, and 2) Curses and Kisses by yours truly, and review the second one, because I'm not posting the next chapter until I've got five reviews!

chapter seven   
Tangled Web

_Love a knotted web does weave   
__Intertwining the heart of youth   
__Until the web stretches 'cross your eyes   
__And hides you from the truth_

-- Ky'loe

I reached into the minuscule cupboard in the kitchen and pulled out an old broom. Humming softly to myself, I swept through the kitchen and into the hallway. The Sunday afternoon sun shone through the window, lighting the small room that served as a living room. In the center was an oak table, a family heirloom of sorts. I reached down and fingered the velvet tablecloth.

I pictured my great-grandfather Christopher (who, I had just learned, was not _named _after King Christopher the Second but actually _was_ King Christopher the Second) sitting in one of the numerous living rooms there must've been in the castle, or wherever he might've had it, sitting beside this very table and burrowing his big nose into a book. I happened to know that he liked to read because I had started to read numerous books about my ancestors. I had to admit most of them were . . . uninteresting.

Leaning the broom against the wall, I picked up the book on the table and flipped to the page I had marked. "King Frederick the First was one of the most intelligent kings Bolton has ever had. He was responsible for the architecture of the Lufis Bridge, which runs across the Milan River Rapids. At age fifteen, King Frederick astounded his --"

"Reney?" Ada walked into the room, smiling. "Ha. There you are, neglecting your work for books again."

"I wasn't reading," I lied quickly. "I was . . . dusting the book."

"Sure. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I am off to the butcher's. Would you rather --"

"Turkey, of course," I responded, setting the book down.

"Well, it's a good thing Nat admires a woman of decisiveness," Ada remarked.

"Quiet, you," I said, smirking _just_ a little.

Ada also turned up the corners of her mouth, looking at the table, no doubt having the same sort of thoughts I had been having a few moments ago. It was unbelievable still, two weeks after we had learned the truth, to think that we were related to royalty and that we could have been royalty, if only royalty did not have certain ideas about marrying below your station.

I gazed out the window to watch Ella beating a sapphire rug and the dust fly into the air. She pulled back, scrunching up her nose and squinting her eyes. When the dust had past and her eyes returned to normal, there were still slight wrinkles surrounding them. This last month had been very hard on Ella's complexion and looks. Her almost unearthly paleness had turned to a rougher shade, along with her perfect hands, which had started to blister. Her face, once smooth from not smiling or frowning or showing much emotion at all, now showed her to be her true age: 19, not 15.

She had told us last week that she was not 17 after all. When Mother had married William, she had not been fourteen, as she had said. William was so forgetful, it was easy to convince e him that she was two years younger than she was, Ella had confided to me, one day as we washed the dishes. It was odd to have two older sisters. I mean, one older sister and an older step-sister.

It was even odder to see Ella act like our sister. There were some days when I could hardly remember why we had called her evil in the first place. Something had evidently snapped in her the day Prince Lawrence walked out our door. Beauty was not the only thing men looked for in girls, she learned, although it did get their attention.

Yet, there were days when I think she would've rather been her old self and just screamed and yelled and called us names instead of being this new Ella, who was _almost_ obedient and smiled more than she smirked. Those days, her eyes had a tired look in them. We did not quite know what to do about her. It was easy to deal with the Ella of old, just ignore her and she would go away. This one, you would never say she was _nice_, but she was a far cry from the spoiled brat she had been.

"All right, then, go to it, but don't you dare to flirt with Gregory Lawson, or I _will_ tell Seolai . . ." I warned. Ada giggled and left. I watched her as she opened the door, explained to Ella, and started strolling down the street. From the back, it looked like she was whistling.

"Ada is sure happy today," commented Ella, flattening the now clean rug on the floor of the entry-way.

"Haven't you heard?" I asked, picking up the broom again. "Seolai wrote her a letter."

Ella gave a little 'hmph.' "I wonder what he sees in her . . . he is royalty, after all." I bit my lip, remembering why Ella was so aggravating. I thought of another royal man who had fallen hard for a girl who was of no consequence at all. I left Ella to her own musings and resumed sweeping.

My mind wandered. Suddenly, I noticed a hand on my hand that was holding the broom. Another was at my waist. The owner of the hands pulled me back until he held all of me. "Nat," I whispered, closing my eyes and resting my head on his shoulder. Whatever the cause of his visit, I was happy.

"I love you," Nathaniel said in my ear.

"I love you," I echoed. We stood there awhile, enjoying each other. Soon, I remembered the broom in my hand and pulled away. "You're distracting me," I declared, after trying to sweep with Nat standing in the same room, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at me.

"You're letting yourself be distracted," he disagreed, shaking his head. I watched his blonde hair fall across his forehead with something akin to fascination. He laughed when he noticed this and straightened up, walking towards me. "You know, the only cure to being distracted is to simply. . ." He reached out and cradled my face in his hands. ". . . Ignore whatever is distracting you."

"Hm," I murmured, with my eyes closed again, as Nat kissed my cheek. "That might be a bit . . . difficult."

"Really?" I opened my mouth to say something else, but Nat didn't let me. He looked at me as if he had just thought of something. "You are the most beautiful woman in the whole world," he breathed, in such a way that I almost believed him. Just then, Ada opened the door and called out a greeting.

I have to admit I did not hear her; because just then I had forgotten there was a world besides Nat and me. It was when she walked into the living room and shouted, "I said, I am home from the market!" that I finally heard her.

"Good afternoon, Ada," Nathaniel said, polite and genteel.

"You don't fool me, Mr. Grey. I know you are here for the sole purpose to see my sister," responded Ada as she set her bundle down in the kitchen, a little testily, I might add.

Nat did not try to deny it; he just looked over and smiled at me again.

"Reney, I need to talk to you. Please." Ada almost looked like she had tears in her eyes -- but that could not be right -- could it?

"Nat, will you wait outside?" I asked, not taking my eyes off Ada. Something was horrendously wrong. The moment Nat took one stride out the door, Ada collapsed. She hugged me hard , weeping into my smaller frame. "Sh, sh," I cooed, rubbing her back slowly. My mind raced over all that could have gone wrong -- a verbal tango with Ella, tripping and falling on her face in front of the whole town -- but none of them seemed horrible enough to merit this reaction in her.

"Oh, Irene," she sobbed, "I was so -- terrible to him. I was so terrible." I didn't ask anything of her yet, simply held on to her as she cried. When she was quiet, she extracted herself from me and gave a last little sniff.

"Ada, what happened?"

"I saw Gregory Lawson and -- and -- and he said something about -- me, something about how beautiful I looked, something -- and -- and I think I said 'Thank you.' but I'm not sure -- then we just talked, I can't even remember what about -- and then -- and then -- Seolai came in and said something angrily -- and then I got mad, too -- and -- and -- and I was so terrible!"

"What did you say to him?"

"Oh, everything you'd expect -- that I wasn't his, he wasn't right to be mad when we weren't engaged or even seeing one another, that I was free as well as I could see -- and then the most horrible thing happened!"

"What?" I gasped, wondering what could be worse than Ada saying all those horrible things to the man (I was fairly sure) she loved.

"Seolai said, 'I love you, Ada. I thought you knew,' and so quietly! Then, he just turned around and left without another word."

"Ada, dear, didn't you go after him?"

"Why would I? I'd said enough to him, he would never forgive me for it."

"Ada," I said, as sternly as I could. "He loves you. He told you he did."

"I don't know how he could possibly love me after that! _I_ would never forgive me!" Ada's face was wet with tears and her eyes dark with despair.

"Ada, you have to believe me. If you would just find him again, perhaps ask for forgiveness --"

"Irene, he won't forgive me! I know him! He is too proud!"

"Perhaps you are too proud to ask," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say?" Ada said, her eyes mixed with grief and anger.

"Listen, Ada, you can't expect me to solve all your problems and then refuse to do what I suggest! Usually, when you ask someone's opinion, it's because you value it!"

"I never asked your opinion, Irene."

"What did you expect me to say to you when you come in here bawling and whining? 'That's nice, obviously you're a big enough girl to take care of it, so, go away.'?"

"I am two years older than you, Irene, so why don't you ever give me the respect of a younger sister?"

"Maybe because you never acted like an _older_ sister!"

"You can't expect everyone to be perfect like you, Irene. Some of us are content to be real people!"

"I never expected you to be perfect. I just would've appreciated an older sister who could've advised me and kept me from doing something stupid instead of someone who needed advising!"

"Maybe I don't need your advice, maybe I'm smart enough to figure it out on my own!"

_Right_, I thought. _Smart enough to figure out that Clarinda Waters was nothing but a backstabber, smart enough to see that she was beautiful the way she was, smart enough to see that Seolai, and most men who were in love, forgave rather easily. Plenty smart enough._ "Ada, there were times I really needed someone to cry to, but you were always to busy crying yourself. I learned to deal with it. Maybe you should, too." With that, I turned on my heel and strode out of the house. Now that it was May, it was warming up and there was no cool breeze to cool my anger.

There was, however, Nathaniel Grey, my life-long friend.

"Irene Graham, what on earth is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong with me? Nothing's wrong with me." I told him bitterly, staring at the street.

"Don't think I didn't hear every word you said to your sister."

"You were eavesdropping on my private conversation?"

"No, but I wasn't covering my ears and humming to block it. If it was private, you should not have screamed it at one another. I think you owe Ada an apology."

"_I_ owe _her_ an apology? She was the one who was acting like such a --"

"I heard the whole thing, Irene, and trust me, you were acting like Clarinda Waters just as much as she was."

"Clarinda Waters? Nat, you can't be serious --"

"I better come back when I am, then," said Nat angrily, pulling on his hat and walking off the porch with a rough, "Good day."

Honestly, what was it with people today? Had some strange bug came, bitten everyone, and made them irritable? I shivered, though I wasn't cold at all, and went back inside.

Ada was in the kitchen, but she pointedly ignored me. _Fine_, I thought. _Just fine. I don't want to talk to you, either._ I picked up the broom and began to sweep, but I just couldn't concentrate, though I couldn't imagine why. I sank into the chair and picked up my book again.

_At age fifteen, King Frederick astounded his teachers by suggesting that Bolton could save much gold by taking a certain amount of grain and wheat from the farmer's crop and using them at the palace._

I skipped the part about the Lufis Bridge, since I had read all about it in the last book I had read about my ancestors.

_When he was thirty-six, a son was born to King Frederick. Prince Jonathon the Forth was strong, handsome and clever. He is most well-known for squashing the Farmer's Rebellion that began in only the third year of his reign as king._

Abruptly, I flung the book down, nauseous and weary of my ancestors. They were not anything like me. I had additional family -- my fathers' parents, their parents, their parents . . .

"Miss?" A soft voice startled me.

"Prince Lawrence?" I felt my jaw drop a little in surprise, and I thought, _what on earth is he doing here? Surely Ella -- _I leaned to the side slightly and saw Ella through the window, looking straight back at me with a strong, strong feeling evident in her eyes. So strong, I could not even tell what it was.

"Miss, I have a rather -- unorthodox favor I would like to ask of you."

"Uh -- all right. Let's go into the shop. It's empty since we're closed on Sundays." I walked into the shop as my mind whirled in circles. What kind of favor could I do for a prince?

The prince's pallid features looked even paler than usual; his coffee-colored hair appeared a little windswept. Overall, he looked shabby and dilapidated. I bit my lip. Love sure had a funny way of changing what you looked like and what was important to you.

"Look, Your Highness, but are you sure it isn't Ada you want to talk to? She's the oldest and could probably help you more than I could."

"No, no," said the prince, running pale fingers through black hair. "I'm sure."

I fiddled with the tattered lace on my navy church dress, which I still wore from this morning. For a moment, I thought of my sister. She had always been tall, beautiful and blonde, strong, brave and smart -- though not, I thought bitterly, remembering our argument, wise. Who would choose me -- wimpy, plain Irene -- over her?

"You are my cousin," Lawrence continued. "You are also the one who found me that night at the ball."

"About that," I started; about to apologize what had happened because of that.

"Please," the prince interjected. "Please, no interruptions." I was silent. "I have never forgotten the kindness you showed to me. You are my cousin," he said, and I wondered why he had brought that up again. "But the only ones who know that are your family and my uncle." He did not, I noticed, mention Ella at all. It was obvious he was still experiencing pain, even two weeks afterwards.

"So, for these reasons --" _Reasons,_ I thought. _What reasons?_ "I have decided upon you."

He has decided upon me -- but for_ what?_ I felt my face heat up as I wished I could be somewhere -- anywhere -- else at that moment.

"I have chosen you," he declared, "to marry me."

Please! Don't kill me!

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	8. Taking Action

Holy cow. Is this truly the eighth chapter? Unbelievable!

Yes, it's me again. I should be studying. . .but I had to finish this, and I hadn't updates in so long. . .not to mention everyone would kill me if I left this hanging for too long. . .

Hello, my name is Phillippa and I think all exams should die. DIE DIE DIE DIE! (cough) Oops, got a bit carried away there. . .

My thanks to those fantasic people who (a) think my story is worth reading and (b) good enough to review. . .

Arein -- Ahhh, the sick and twisted minds of royalty. They're not TRULY cousins, that's just way easier and less confusing that typing "mother's cousin's son" or "father's cousin's daughter." Sorry if this ended up confuzing you! Yes, perhaps Ella and Lawrence do deserve each other. . .

Artemis -- No, don't worry, I'm not that evil. . .I think. And no, if the prince took Irene, I would have Nat. So THERE! And I'm sorry about your thumb? Is it better now?

Erin -- So, what you're saying is. . .this is a good story? Holy cow! Was my explanation suffiecient?

Lil Lillian -- Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Yes. I hate Lawrence too.

Miss Piratess -- Ah! Come back to life and read the next chapter.

mythicalmemory -- verrrrrrry interesting! (cue maniacal laughter)

Tiger Lily21 -- Oy is right! Yes, I will write more, but only because you are so wonderful and polite. And you're welcome.

Chapter Eight

Taking Action

_Say all you want about staying still_

_I say the better life is of those who move_

_They are constantly brimming with energy_

_Your point don't even try to prove_

-- Ky'loe

I stood there for what seemed a extremely long time, trying to convince myself that Prince Lawrence had not just said what I thought I heard (though couldn't possibly have actually heard) him say to me. I looked out the window and saw Ella. She was the one that should be hearing this said to her, not me!

"Miss Graham?" said the prince, as if reminding me of his presence. I massaged my forehead with a slow sigh and wished I got headaches. Then, I could have said, "Sorry, Your Highness, but I am at present being afflicted with a headache and will not be able to do anyone any favors," and so would have escaped this uncomfortable situation. I was positive that I would have gotten a headache by now, if only they troubled me.

I opened my mouth, and then shut it. I couldn't very well just say, "No, but thanks anyway." Perhaps if I explained that Nat might propose any day now . . .

_"I better come back when I am, then," said Nat heatedly; pulling on his hat and marching off the porch._ I bit my lip again. Nat might not propose after all . . .

_"Ada," I said. "He loves you. He told you he did."_ I had told Ada that Seolai would forgive her for the things she had said to him . . .

"Prince Lawrence -- I don't think I want to become your wife." So much for explaining or breaking it gently. He suddenly moved very close to me and a ridiculous thought came into my head -- I hope he doesn't kiss me.

He said, almost silent, "Are you sure this is a private place? No one will be able to hear our conversation?" I thought of Ada, in the kitchen. She might come in here . . . so where could we go to be absolutely private? Of course! Why did I not think of it before this? The cellar!

"Come with me. We will talk in the cellar." Prince Lawrence followed me like a lost puppy (an image that frankly, I did not approve of at all) down the stairs and into our dusty and dirty cellar. I stumbled around, searching for a lamp, as my cousin stood by the stair as if frightened of moving.

When I finally discovered a lamp and lighted it, I saw that the cellar had become its old self again after Ella had left it dormant for so long. "Sorry about the mess, Your Highness. We don't often entertain down here . . ."

"Never mind that," snapped Prince Lawrence. I took a step backwards. What was going on here? I held the lantern close and reminded myself to breathe. "Miss Graham, you are aware that I am in love with your step-sister."

"I am," I whispered.

"And she with me."

"Yes." Where was he going with all this? _I love your stepsister, so marry me?_

"I still want to marry her, but you can understand that my parents will not allow it, since my uncle has told them what he assumes is the truth. However, they still insist that I marry someone, practically anyone -- I believe 'any girl over fifteen' were their exact words. My father has been told be his physician that he will not last the summer."

_You do not need a queen to be king_, I thought to myself. Moreover, I still do not understand why you are telling me any of this.

"This, Miss Graham, is my plan. I shall tell my father and mother that I have found a bride -- you. Then, after my father dies, I shall marry Ella, for there is no person who can stop a king from doing what he wishes."

_On the contrary, there are many._ I recalled from my recently acquired knowledge all the advisors and directors and consultants the king had to check up on what he was doing concerning the county. Not to mention his mother will still be his mother, even if he is the king.

"So," I said slowly, "You are to wed Ella after all."

"Yes, I am," said the prince, sounding proud and important. _What has happened to you? Where is the man I met on the balcony, sad but wonderful? Where is the man who shares my taste in poetry? Ella has poisoned you with pride._

I took a deep breath and held it a moment. "Not with my help, you aren't."

"What?" shrieked Prince Lawrence, in a familiar tone. It reminded me of Ella, and that was not very pleasant.

"I said, no, I won't help you deceive your parents and your country."

"What does Bolton have to do with anything? You will help me!"

"Bolton has to do with a lot. Remember, Your Highness? Let's have a government lesson. The prince's wife, once the king dies, becomes . . . a queen," I said. I felt very vulnerable and open, and so I stepped back into the corner. Perhaps I was not being very wise, but I was saving my country in the only way I knew how. "The queen of Bolton makes many important decisions, Your Highness. Decisions I am not sure Ella can make correctly."

"I will not have you insult my --"

"Your Highness, you may feel the strongest feeling you've ever felt for someone, for Ella, but I have lived with her for four years in the same house. She is not responsible enough to make decisions that effect Bolton and this region, and practically the whole world."

"Are you saying --"

"I am saying, Your Highness, that I may marry whoever I would like and it would not affect more than five people to a great extent. You, however, have the people of Bolton to think of, who will depend on you wholly when your father dies. Your every act will affect them."

Prince Lawrence's pale face had taken on a reddish tint, and he was making sounds akin to growling and muttering vulgar things about me under his breath. "I thought," he hissed. "That you were a nice person."

"A person with no backbone, you mean? I might have been before, but I have learned my lesson. You have your precious Ella to thank for that."

Prince Lawrence made numerous threatening movements, but did not lay a finger on me. "Fine," he spat at me. "Fine, Miss Graham. You have made your choice."

"I have. I do not believe I will regret it."

After Prince Lawrence had left (with one last evil look at me -- it is scary to think about, but I did wonder who the real Prince Lawrence was -- the one on the balcony or the one in the cellar), I felt like I had accomplished something big. I had stopped a horrible thing from happening, which would have hurt and affected so many -- the poor queen, realizing that her son had lied to her. The people of Bolton, I imagine, would be none too pleased with their king and queen.

And what of my life? Mother and Ada would never forgive me. Nathaniel would definitely not propose marriage to me then, and I don't think I could live with myself, knowing it was my deeds -- far worse than telling the prince to use the glass slipper -- that put Ella on the throne.

Ada watched me as I cooked dinner with a questioning look. She wondered what Prince Lawrence had said to me, and I rather wanted to tell someone. "Reney," she said softly. "I am awfully bad as an older sister, aren't I?"

My heart was wrenched in two. "Oh, no, Ada! Oh, Ada, I'm so sorry. I don't know why, but I was upset with everyone earlier -- I was much more horrible by far to you than you were to Seolai -- could you find it in you to forgive me?"

"Yes," she whispered, a tear tripping down her cheek. I dropped the meat and hugged her, both of us crying.

"And I didn't mean a word of it. You are an excellent older sister."

"No," Ada shook her head. "No, I'm really not. Depending on you so much, and not assisting you when it was clear you needed guidance I could've given to you. There is so much to regret."

"Oh, please don't spend all your time regretting what you could've done. Think of all the things you can do," I advised, wiping away a stray tear.

"Don't worry, Irene. I am going to be a much better sister from now on. Anything at all you need or need to talk about, and I'll be there," Ada promised.

"Actually, I would like to talk about something rather important," I informed her.

"Oh," she said sadly. "It's about Nat, isn't it? I heard him stomp off the porch. He may've made you upset, but that was no reason to slam the door."

"I did not slam the door!" I replied with false indignity. "You're right. I should apologize to him, but I've no idea where he is."

"I'd try his house," Ada said with a wry smile. I gave her a friendly push. "You'd never believe how much time people spend in their own houses."

"How boring." _You'd never believe . . ._ "But, that's not what I was going to say."

"It's not?" A questioning glint sparkled in her eyes.

"You'll never believe what the prince said to me." Never! She had hardly believed that he had **spoken** to me at the ball.

"How about. . ." Ada thought for a while. "Um. . . 'Want to come to the next family reunion?"

"No, amazingly enough." I couldn't help but let a grin come onto my face. "Try again."

"What about --" Just then, Ella came in, with an unpleasant look on her face. "What about Lucinda? She would make a fine bridesmaid."

_What on earth_, I thought. Then, I saw Ada drop a wink in my direction. "Yes, but then Alexander would get jealous of Edmund. . ."

"So make Lucinda your maid of honor."

"Instead of you? No, that -- oh, hello, Ella. Um, we were just planning a little for my --"

"I realized that," Ella said in an acidic tone. "I'm not stupid, you know. Is dinner soon?"

"Yes, dear. As soon as Mother comes back from her walk, we'll eat," I replied, remaining as cheery as possible.

"Good. I'm starved." Ada and I exchanged looks of disbelief. She gave the soup a cautious sniff. "Is this turkey? I hate turkey."

"There's some chicken left from last week," Ada said hesitantly, as though Ella were some sort of giant bomb that could go off any minute without warning. Which was rather true, when you stopped to think about it.

"Fine," Ella spat, reminding me strongly of a particular disagreeable cousin of mine. I wondered suddenly if Ella was in on the prince's plan, or if she was completely clueless.

_"I'm not stupid, you know."_ And she wasn't, either. That was the main problem, as I saw it. She was too clever for her own good -- and everyone else's good as well! Ada and I exchanged looks as Ella flitted out of the kitchen.

"The sooner she leaves this house, the better," said Ada, slumping against the wall. "She's like -- like a drain on my body or something." I nodded silently in agreement, stirring the turkey soup thoughtfully.

"I know that it's against all our morals and probably impossible, but I have heard the slave market is getting rather desperate for pretty girls on the annoying side. . ."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Irene Elizabeth Graham?"

"Exactly what you think I am, Ada **Roberta** Graham." I knew it was low, but Ada's comment beckoned me to use her hated middle name. And besides that, she needed something to get her mind off of Ella.

"Reney, you are so. . ."

"Clever?" With a small high-pitched squeak I find very endearing in her, Ada chased me around the kitchen. By the end of it, we were both laughing so hard we were crying. "Here, now. . .give me back my stirring spoon," I said between giggles. "Unless you want your soup charred to a crisp."

"Contrary to what you think, I am quite partial to burnt food."

"Dr. Candavish said that eating burnt food can kill you," I said, making a grab across the table for the spoon.

"Dr. Candavish also said that I should only eat rice and kiwa -- kuwi -- some weird green fruit. The point is, I don't believe Dr. Candavish."

"Well, **I** do. Give me the spoon."

"I won't."

"Ada, darling, you know I'm faster than you are," I said sweetly, creeping towards her. "So, don't you even think about run -- oh, come on!" I complained. I may be a better sprinter, but in long distances, Ada will get the best of me every time. But I could not admit defeat! After I put out the fire in the stove, I set off after her.

So, I didn't get to tell Ada what the prince had said to me in the cellar. I rather wanted to forget about it, myself, and just go on with life. And after all, why would she need to know about it anyway?

I carefully set down the box of straw hats in front of Mother. "Quite late, Madam, but still -- they're here!"

Mother tsk-tsked. "I never ordering from the Rowburg's again. Awful service."

"Good products, though," I mused, trying on a hat. "Don't you think?"

"Take that off and get to work," Mother commanded, her eyes dark. The smile on my face faded. On certain days, Mother was not very agreeable. I slipped off the hat and placed it back in the box, lugging it over to the corner where we put newly arrived things. As I placed the hat on the last of the modeling dolls in our window, I saw Nathaniel walk in front of me and felt my heart skip a beat. He was looking down at his feet -- purposefully, I'm sure -- and walking as far from the store as possible.

I wiped away the tears I hadn't realized I was crying. A hand fell onto my shoulder and I turned to see Mother, her face softened. "Oh," I said, before I started blubbering like a baby. Mother held me close and let me cry on her a little. I sniffled and sighed into her thin shoulder, "I love him so much. . .and he -- he -- _hates_ me."

"No, Irene, that isn't it at all. He's just angry, a little jealous perhaps --"

"Jealous? Or what?"

Mother's eyebrows jumped a little, like mine do sometimes. "Of everything that prevents you from spending time with him."

"That's absurd! I can't spend all my time with him --"

"Love doesn't always make sense, Irene."

That was true. That was very true. I bit my lip. "Mother, could you spare me for a little while?"

A small grin splashed on her face. "Of course."

Sorry it's not as long as it sometimes is. So! The next chappie is sure to make all you Nat-Irene shippers happy!

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	9. Coat Turner

(dodges several fruity projectiles) Look, wonderful, understanding readers! A chapter after a hiatus of (winces) five months and nine days. This chapter was so impossibly hard to write, that's why it took so long. I had to take a break from it, because nothing was coming. I just sat at the computer and stared, no ideas came. Then I came back 'cause I changed my mind about what was going to happen. And I finally finished it!

I apologize. Because I lied. No lovely Nat/Irene-ness. It's pretty ugly, actually.

Thanks to my lovelies, those people who have not yet given up on me . . .

Arein – Yeah, love is tricky sometimes. (shrugs) I don't know what's going to happen with Lawrence and the witch-girl he loves. Well, I have a half-idea, but I'm not going to say. Because I'll probably change my mind, and then you'll be expecting something that won't happen.

Artemis – Ah, my loveliest lovely. No love, more anger in this chapter. Sorry! Yeah, Seolai will be comin' back. He misses Ada. Lawrence is just dumb. _Ella_ is evil. Is your thumb all the way better _now_? And thanks for the good luck about exams, it sure worked.

GinnyRoseWealsey – No proposal. Hey, sorry about not thanking you last time! I don't know why I didn't.

Erin – No, Lawrence isn't nice at all. I used to like him, but something happened, and so I decided he was dumb. But no nice conversation. I'm sorry. Forgive me! Please! (grovels pitifully)

Miss Piratess – I know, you're gone for the summer, so I won't expect a speedy review from you. Love is tricky, verrrrrrrrry tricky. You can be Lawrence's only fan, everyone else seems to hate his guts. Hey, he's just in love! He just reacted in a (cough) unique way when he couldn't get the woman he wanted.

mythicalmemory – Yeah, Lawrence isn't too smart. Yikes. It is pretty obvious whoever named "Simple Song" had a pretty nasty sense of humor, confusing all those poor singers.

Tiger Lily21 – Something tells me you aren't going to be very pleased with me by the time you finish this chapter.

Sirenic Griffin – thanks, though I am confused about the knife. I only have wombats and Jedi's, so it wasn't mine. We'll just put it in the lost and found and hope someone takes it home . . .

Chapter Nine

COAT TURNER

_Betrayal is a knife with a poisoned tip_

_It stings and burns as it does rip_

_And when you're lying there in halves_

_It turns away from you – and laughs_

— Ky'loe

My shoes made soft thuds upon the pavement. I felt odd, walking so much faster than my fellow Boltonians were, but Nat was still ahead of me. He even seemed to be gaining distance. _How strange_, I thought. _He never walks so fast when he is walking with me._ This thought gave me a pain somewhere between my ribs and my stomach.

A small group of people exited the flower shop right in front of me. Clarinda Waters led the pack, looking disgustingly radiant and happy. "Oh, Irene!" she called, in that biting voice of hers, motioning for me to talk with her. Nat was nearing the corner, but I did not have much of a choice. I had to speak to her, much to my dismay.

"Good morning, Clarinda. Eliza, Rebecca, Mary. How are you?"

"Fine," replied Clarinda, with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Fine," they echoed. Mary Andrews covered her mouth with a pristine glove and whispered something into Eliza Berne's ear. They both laughed quietly. I felt a small blush begin in my cheeks and hated myself for it. _Grow up_, I told myself sternly. _Since when were you thirteen again?_

"It's a beautiful day for a walk," Rebecca Slate said tonelessly.

"Yes," I murmured.

"The weather has certainly become warmer since April. I almost thought we would have winter all year!" Clarinda laughed, swinging her pink parasol a little. I recognized it against my will as being the latest style – we had just ordered a few dozen from Romberg's. "It was so cold the night of the ball . . . wasn't it?"

"Quite cold," I agreed, eyebrows unconsciously jumping a little.

"Why, I went out on the balcony and it was positively _frigid_!" she went on. "Thankfully, I had remembered my fur; I can't think of what I would've done without it."

"Yes," I replied without thinking. Nat had turned on the corner of 5th Street. Hopefully, he would not turn again. I did not want to think about what would happen if I never got to speak with him. _"He's just jealous,"_ I heard my mother try to convince me, _"so stop worrying."_

". . . On the balcony?" Clarinda asked, tilting her head to the side a little and beaming at me nauseatingly.

"Excuse me?" Mary and Eliza tittered brainlessly at that.

"I said, did you find the time to go out on the balcony?"

"I did. It was very beautiful," I recalled, feeling Nat's hand in mine. _Do not let him turn the other corner, oh, please do not let him turn the other corner, _I prayed. Nothing seemed quite as important just then as talking to Nat. It was rather odd, because I never thought of myself as someone who was obsessed about boys, although I had liked boys before. Those times must have been mere infatuation, I guess. That meant this time was . . .

Clarinda was still looking at me, her head tilted, the smile hanging off her face. But her eyes had changed. They were sparkling dangerously. The edges of her smile were beginning to curl, and suddenly my heart stopped.

The balcony . . . the balcony!

I hoped desperately that the realization did not show on my face. What had Clarinda seen on the balcony? Nat and I – good heavens, was she intending to blackmail me about _Nathaniel_? I had thought her rather clever before, but if she thought that she could get something from me only because she knew about Nat . . . I let my face fall back into a bored expression as my body and soul filled with relief.

"Well, Clarinda, I really must be on my way . . . places to go," I explained. "Goodbye, Mary. Rebecca, Eliza . . . I'll see you in church." Clarinda bid me goodbye, still smiling, and started walking again, her posse following her like chicks after a mother hen.

"Oh, Irene," Clarinda said suddenly, turning. "Did you get to meet His Highness? Quite handsome, don't you agree?"

_Ella_, I thought, my heart falling into my stomach. Surely, she did not know about Ella. "I – I suppose." I walked away quickly, hearing faded laughter from Eliza. Once upon a time, not so long ago, it would have been Ada that laughed. She would do anything if she thought it might impress Clarinda or make her like Ada more somehow. At the time, she did not realize that Clarinda would never be satisfied until she had become a Clarinda herself. Ada did not realize it until I told her . . .

I leaned over the stove, my thin-muscled arms tired and aching from stirring the large pot of stew. Why would the spices I had added not mix? Faintly, I heard laughter outside the kitchen window. Moving slightly to the left and keeping half an eye on my stew, I saw Clarinda, Ada, and Eliza all walking down the small alleyway that separated our house from our neighbors. Eliza was clearly imitating someone, her head was down and she was shuffling her feet and mumbling. Clarinda laughed again, swinging a blue parasol, and almost dancing with glee. "Um, hullo," Eliza muttered in a very deep voice, which sent Clarinda cackling again. Ada, however, had a rather forced smile on her face and her eyes looked a little sad and doubtful. "Um, my name is Puh-puh-peter Slate, and I am as duh-duh-dumb as a rock."

I shook my head and concentrated on the watery contents of the pot. I tried to block out Clarinda and Eliza's laughter, but they were too loud. Rebecca was one of their own, and pretty protective of her stuttering older brother. Unfortunately, the sight did not shock me in the least. A few days ago, Clarinda, Ada and Mary had walked past the window, laughing that Eliza was so clumsy that it was a miracle she could even manage to walk.

Ada walked into the kitchen, laughing absently with a hand in her hair. She seemed rather uneasy and nervous for some reason. "Good morning," I greeted, somewhat cautiously. Ada had been a little more sensitive than usual lately. Practically anything could start her screaming with sobs, anger or laughter. Today, however, she was dull and gray, not even nodding to me, as if she had not heard me speak. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," she murmured, not looking at me. "I just feel a little tired, is all. I think I might – might go and lie in bed for a time."

"Ada," I said, a pleading tone in my gentle voice, grasping her shoulder and turning her to me. She stared at our feet and did not say anything. "Tell me what the matter is, please." She finally picked up her head and looked me in the eye. There was a tear running down her cheek.

"They did it again," she said slowly. I nodded, though I did not fully understand what she meant. "Because I was not laughing at one of Clarinda's jokes. One joke! It was not even funny . . . not to me, anyway. Clarinda stopped laughing right away when she noticed I had not laughed at it. 'What is it?' she said. 'Too proper for us, Ada?' And then Mary said, 'We have no use for prissy little brats.' 'Well?' Clarinda asked me. So I laughed, and they did not say anything else about it; they acted like it never even happened." Ada slammed a hand against the table. "What do they want me to do? It is not like I can change who I am!"

I began to speak, gently and slowly, hoping that Ada would not become upset. "Ada, have you ever noticed that Nat and I are the same with each other and without each other?" Ada nodded her head slowly. "That is because do not feel like we need to be someone else to please each other. We both know that we are friends because of the way we are." I took a breath. "That is true friendship, Ada. Can you honestly say you have that with Clarinda?" Ada was not looking at me again, she seemed to be quite engrossed in the ceiling.

"No," she whispered. "Not anymore." I gave her a long hug. It would be hard, I knew, for Ada to stand up to Clarinda. When I looked at her, her face was set with determination. _She can, and will, do it,_ I thought,_ and she will become a stronger person because of it._

I was right.

I turned onto 5th Street, still wishing fervently that Nat would not be too far. It was emptier than Main Street, so I walked as fast as I could – almost running, but Nathaniel was not anywhere to be found. I felt a stinging in my leg and stopped to rest next to the bank. Rubbing it nervously, I watched the people stroll past carelessly. I had been one of them a little less than two months ago. Now, it seemed there was no end to things to worry me: the prince's love problems, Ada's love problems, my own love problems, and above all hung the question of what we were going to do about Ella.

She had _seemed_ to have turned around, become less bratty and spoiled, but suddenly, a week ago, it was like none of that had ever happened. It worried me, although Ada said that I should not bother, since it was Ella. But I remembered her whispered "No," and what she confessed to me while we were washing dishes, and it felt rather wrong. Even Ella would not, could not, be so seemingly heartless and empty.

Right?

I felt feverish. I was not very used to running the streets of Bolton. I had to catch up to Nat, to tell him I loved him, to explain about Ada . . . and perhaps . . . Ella and Prince Lawrence? _No_, my heart whispered, _that is too much, too soon. It might ruin whatever happiness you and Nat have._ My sensible side disagreed. After all, Nathaniel may have a quick temper, but if I explain in a certain way . . . and besides, I could not keep such a large secret from him for much longer. It felt rather like carrying a flaming rock in the palm of your hand. I did not have a lot of experience holding a flaming rock in the palm of my hand, but I imagine that it could not be much more painful than the task that lay before me.

I started walking again, ignoring the dull throb in my left leg. I had to reach Nat, before my chance passed and he was gone. "_Silly,_" Ada was saying in my head, "_he lives less than a two minute walk away!_" But Nat was leaving me without ever moving farther away, which was ten times worse than if he had truly left. Because he was close, but one step too far, so that I could not touch him, so that it was much like if he lived on the other side of the world. It was cruel of him to do this to me. _Perhaps that is his intent_, a doubting voice said to my heart.

"Good morning, Miss Graham," I heard someone say. Mr. Mus was standing before me, the perpetual grin shining on his face.

"Good morning," I responded, finding my voice discouragingly breathless. "A splendid day for a walk, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Mr. Mus said. "But one would think a walk for two would be much more enjoyable. I may be only an old widow, but even I remember the excellence of such company on such a beauteous day."

"Ah," I said, cleverly. Was everyone's sole purpose to make me feel miserable? If it was, they were certainly doing a good job. I coughed dryly into my handkerchief and continued, "How is Lucinda?"

"Oh, very well! I believe she is spending the day with Alexander Gr –"

"Excuse me, I must . . ." I walked past him in a hurry, holding my hand to my heart. Mr. Mus, undoubtedly, was left in the dust in more ways than one. I felt like a fool and no doubt, looked like one also, scurrying around the city as if my life depended on it.

I turned a quick corner onto 6th Street and flattened myself on the wall, closing my eyes and panting again. The jealousy came then. Lucinda could go spend the day with Alexander because Alexander was not angry with Lucinda because Lucinda's sister had not got in a fight with her because Lucinda's sister would never . . . Lucinda did not have a sister. I put my hand to my head. I was feeling warmer by the minute. Was I sick? Was even my own body against me? I was never going to find Nat, that was for sure. By this time, he could be anywhere. _I should go back home. We will be having dinner soon._

I opened my eyes, ready to return home, and Nat filled all I could see. He did not look happy, or in love, or in the mood to forgive. I felt dizzy and kept myself against the wall, doubting that I could stand on my own. My mouth opened, but no words came. Nat sighed and ran a hand through his hair and over his face, shaking his head as if I had said something objectable. Somewhere, a bird began to sing loudly. "Irene," Nat started, his voice cracking slightly but void of any warmth. I should have turned cold at his words, but I turned even more feverish and faint. "I . . . had not expected . . . to find you here. Should you not be at home? It is . . . quite – late."

I had not seen him in two weeks, and he treated me like a child, rebuking me for staying out past curfew. "It is only suppertime," I heard myself say, only it could not be my voice that sounded so empty and cold, not when speaking to Nat, my best friend and my truest love. "I am quite an adult now, Nathaniel, and thus free to walk the streets of Bolton whenever I choose." He looked away from me, his face turned towards the street, as if he were expecting someone to come down it any minute.

"Yes," he said quietly, but not, it seemed, to me. We stood there in silence for what seemed a long time, Nat staring down the road and not saying anything, me against the wall and feeling horribly cornered and feverish. When Nathaniel finally began to speak, still turned from me, I was struck by the sensation that I must be imagining this, that this could not be actually happening, that this was not Nat and I talking like strangers, but some odd facsimiles of the both of us. "I thought, Irene, that you – I have always considered us to have a good – a good . . . friendship. So, when I heard about – I thought perhaps it was all falsehood, but now – it's too much, I cannot – I . . ." I continued to stare at him, trying to make sense of the half-ideas he was saying. What had he heard about? What was too much to handle? Why had he not looked at me yet? He said something I could not hear, though I strained. His hand once again went through his hair.

"I am not really sure what I should say to you, now . . ." What had happened that he could no longer speak to me? Had I changed suddenly and not realized it? Had Nat changed? My world began to slip and turn and Nat became skewed. I blinked and everything went back to normal, or at least, this strange scene I had not adjusted to yet. He glanced my way and I thought of what he must see – a plain girl in an old dress, red-faced but emotionless, pressed against the wall as if hiding from something. For some reason, seeing me made him ball his fists and clench his teeth, his eyes looking alive for the first time since we had begun to talk. The real Nat was back, but this was not a Nat that I liked or cared for, and overall, I did not think this was a good change.

"How could you," he said in a low, quiet voice, tainted with anger and something I could not name. I would have preferred him to scream. "Where is the woman that grew up with me?" I simply stood and watched him, telling my mouth to say something, anything. My body was not responding, it seemed to have gone into shock. Nat put his hand through his hair and turned, finally facing me. I pressed myself even harder against the wall, trying to escape. "I thought I knew you once, Irene Graham. I thought I knew you like the back of my hand. But it was all a lie. All of it." Nat's face seemed to change, but only for a split second, too fast for me to recognize the emotion. We stood there for a moment, the silence pounding in my ears. With a small shake of his head, he took a step back and began to leave. I reached out a quivering arm and tried to grab his wrist. He spun around and said in a voice I had never heard him use, "Don't. Don't touch me." Then he left, without a single glance back at me.

I hugged myself and rocked slowly back and forth. Then, in the darkness of 6th Street, I began to cry again.

* * *

All right, you guys need to listen a minute before you start torching my house down. I really _was _going to have Irene explain to Nat and do a small happily ever after. Then this mean plot twist bunny hopped along and bit me. I didn't write anything, but the idea was too stuck in my head. (I won't tell you what, that's next chapter, when Irene gets in touch with her aggressive, confrontational side.) So this came out. I haven't started the next chapter yet, but don't worry, all will be explained eventually. But don't expect chapter ten (oh my gosh, I'm to chapter TEN) to come really soon. But it is summer, and I've nothing to do.

Right now, I'm working on two one-shots for fairy-tale, one, called Pure White Naïveté, about Snow White and another, called Love Triumphant, about the dangers of letting a dream take over your life, set in Cinderella. I know, I know, another one of those. But it's really good. Both of them are, even though they have a different tone than I usually use. Those'll be coming out soon (crosses fingers)

review review review review


	10. Truth

Fear no more, my lovely, faithful, perhaps mad, reviewers! This chapter comes with breakthroughs and a tiny bit of nice things. (Though not Nat/Irene-ness, yet. Sorry) This is the turning point . . . hence, why it is titled "Truth." (On the computer, my story is now FIFTY pages long. My longest story yet. Three cheers for me.)

Happy Halloween. Free chocolate/candy/tofu for all. Yay.

(thank you's are after-chapter today, I know you are all so very eager to read this baby, so I won't stall.)

* * *

Chapter Ten -- Truth 

_In the garden of truth sometimes  
Will grow deceit and doubt  
But they do not belong, my friend  
And how quickly they die out_  
– Ky'loe

I could not quite recall my walk home, or how I ended up in my nightgown and my bed, but when I woke up, I remembered every word Nat had said and every look he had given me. I put a wary hand to my forehead, and instead of touching fire, I touched ice. I shivered and pulled the blankets closer. Sunshine drifted through the open window but I did not – perhaps, could not – feel it. I shut my eyes again, but there was no sleep left in my body.

There was a quiet knock on the door, followed by a gentle call of "Irene?" For some reason, I did not know exactly how to answer that, so I simply stayed silent. After a bit, I heard Mother's soft footsteps taking her away from me. I was with myself, and I could only think. I did not want to think, because thinking led me to the last thing I could remember.

What had happened in the space of time that we had not spoken that had caused Nathaniel Grey, my true love, – at least, I had thought – to suddenly despise me? I sat up slowly and leaned against the headboard, a hand on my cold forehead. Never in my life had I felt quite as miserable as I did now.

Suddenly, my door was opened and Mother stepped in, giving a start at the sight of me. "Oh, Irene," she whispered, her hand still on the doorknob. Her face was worried, her mouth drawn down and her hair unkempt. She was by my bed in an instant, her comforting hands touching my face cautiously. "I thought – that is, I wasn't sure – you looked so pale, Irene. As pale as –" She took a shaky little breath and pulled her hand through my hair. "As pale as your father when he –" Her voice faded away, and I noticed the dark circles surrounding her eyes. I made myself speak.

"Don't worry. I shall be all right." Mother gave a small hiccup at that, and all at once she was sobbing on my shoulder. I had never known her to cry. As I placed my arms around her, I heard more familiar footfalls in the hallway. Ada peeked around the half-open door, fresh tears on her cheeks. She said nothing, but sat on the edge of my bed as we both watched our mother put herself back together.

The three of us sat in silence a while, Mother still hiccupping and breathing unsteadily. After a while, she kissed my face and left the room. Ada had stopped crying. I inspected my sister – she looked as if she had not eaten in a week. "I suppose," she said, sounding not quite the same, "that you would like to hear what has been happening while you slept."

"Of course I do. I don't even remember walking home," I said, pulling my blankets a little closer. I tried desperately to hide my actions, so as not to worry Ada, but she noticed stoically and helped me arrange them.

"You do not remember walking home because you never did. Alexander and Lucinda found you stone-cold and huddled in a ball on 6th Street about dusk. You did not seem to be asleep, but would not respond to anything they did to you." Here her voice became tight. "They were not sure that you were quite alive. According to Dr. Candavish, you had a – breakdown of some sort. Your body went into shock."

"I fainted?"

"Something like that. You also had a touch of fever and influenza." Ada smiled a little with her mouth, but not her eyes. "You smelled a lot like vomit, they said. They brought you home and fetched the doctor right away." She shifted her body, scooting closer to me. "The first thing he told us was that you were not dead or in any immediate danger of dying, but you were very, very ill and would not wake for at least a couple of days."

"I have been asleep for two days?" I asked.

"No," Ada said, in a voice so soft I almost did not hear. "Five." I felt as though I had no breath left. I imagined Mother and Ada opening the door to see me, pale and limp, in Alexander's arms. I thought what I might have done if I had seen Ada that way. No wonder Mother had fallen apart. She had spent the last five days wondering and doubting, fearing and worrying. Ada's voice called me back from my pondering. "You are the most talked-of person in town," she told me, her voice failing to sound light and with the air of someone turning around the conversation. "I never knew so many people were such good friends of yours." The bitterness was clear this time.

"Good friends of mine?" I echoed.

"Half the girls knew exactly how you fell in love with him, and the other half knew exactly how he fell in love with you," Ada said, not looking at me. _What is this? _I wondered. _Does everyone know that Nat and I have fought?_ "You might have at least told Nat."

"What?" I responded quickly. Told him about how Ada and I had made up, or told him about Ella and Lawrence?

Ada laughed with no humor. "Come, Irene, the whole story is out. You need not lie to me."

"What on earth are you talking about?" I asked, alarmed. The whole story?

She continued as if I had not spoken. "Mother, of course, does not believe any of it at all. At first, I thought it was only gossip as well. But then, I remembered the day you did not tell me what the prince had spoken to you about – and suddenly, everything fit. I felt foolish to think that I had not seen it before. But you fooled everyone –"

"Ada, stop!" I panted. This was sounding very familiar – and the feeling that someone had decided to change my reality without telling me was, too. Ada was looking at me with something far worse in her eyes than I had ever seen. Something like hate. "Please believe me when I say that I do not know what you are talking about. Nothing happened with the prince – except that my idea of him was changed somewhat, because –"

"Yes, I know. Because he proposed."

I could not speak; I was so astonished. I felt as though my mind had just exploded and I was now incapable of speech. Her face darkened, but not from surprise. She had expected this, known it was going to happen, somehow. I gathered all my leftover brain cells and formed one word. "How?" Ada laughed that laugh again, and I felt chills all over.

"I figured that out myself, after Clarinda told me everything." My face showed my feelings again, and she scoffed, "Yes, Clarinda was the one who found out. I never knew a filthy sneak and gossip like her would ever be of any use." My mind was working furiously. I had told no one and I highly doubted that the prince spoke often with Clarinda Waters either, so she must have somehow heard or seen it – but how, _how?_ We were in the cellar, alone! No one could hear us or see us! So how . . .

But I had other things to worry about. I cleared my throat. "She obviously did not tell you everything," I said, my voice rough. "Because otherwise you would know that although Prince Lawrence proposed to me, he was not accepted." Ada opened her mouth, her eyes full of doubt, but I silenced her. "No, I must speak. He told me that being engaged to me was the only way he could marry Ella."

"That's preposter –"

"Ada! _Listen_ to me. The prince told me that his parents were pressuring him to be engaged, and since I was his cousin, after all, he figured I would not mind pretending until his father died. After that, he explained, he would marry Ella." I let that sink in.

Ada finally seemed to have lost her rage, but not her doubt. "Prince Lawrence knows that all Ella said to him was a lie, though."

I shrugged. "I suppose he does not mind as much as he first did. Besides, Sir Roderick was there, was he not? So, I guess he was trying to trick us into thinking he no longer loved her." Ada nodded slowly. "But it really does not matter, does it? After all, I refused, so –"

"You truly refused him?"

"Of course I refused him. I was not about to lie so Ella would become queen. Would you have not refused?" I asked back, trying to work out her question.

"That is not what I meant," Ada answered as she wound her hair around her finger. "I meant that . . . oh, Irene." She gave a very large sigh and stared at me for a moment. I could tell by her expression that she was not quite sure how to say what she wanted to, so I stayed silent and let her think. "The day that you, uh, fainted. That evening, a royal proclamation was announced. It said – it said that –" She sighed again, her finger disappearing in her hair. "It said that you and Prince Lawrence were to be married."

In the time that passed, my tired mind was working furiously. This explained everything – especially Nathaniel Grey and Clarinda Waters. He had thought that I had betrayed him, had been leading him on all this time. She had been insinuating my relationship with the Prince, not Ella's. _Ella! _ She surely knew that this was all fraud. But wait –

"Ada, you mentioned gossip and something about Clarinda Waters –" I started.

"Yes, that's right. It was only announced to the nobles and those who were staying at the castle at the time. I suppose the prince wanted it to be private, in hopes that you would not hear of it." She continued, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "Fortunately, Clarinda just happened to be at the castle for some bogus reason – retrieving something she had lost the night of the ball or some such nonsense – doubtless, because someone had told her that something might happen that night. She overheard the announcement and spread it around town as swiftly as possible in true Clarinda fashion." She leaned forward and took my hand in a sudden moment of graceful gentleness. "I cannot fathom that I believed her so willingly. You are my sister; I should have known –"

"Do not blame yourself, Ada. I think we have all been rather mistrustful since the night of the ball. It has changed us all, perhaps for the better." I patted the hand that held mine in an effort to comfort her a little.

"Oh, Irene, whatever shall we do?"

"Is there anything we can do?" I answered, attempting not to sound too mournful.

"You are being foolish, Reney. There is always _something_ we can do. But the real problem is figuring out how," Ada said wryly, and I knew that she, at least, is back to her normal self. That gave me a little hope; I sat up straighter and pushed my hair out of my face. Ada recognized the look that I had in my eyes and put her hands firmly on my shoulders. "No, Irene. Not you, not yet." I felt a bit of anger deep, deep down, until she uttered a word hardly audible, the beginning of an explanation I did not need to hear. "Mother –"

"All right," I said quickly, all my fire gone. "I will stay in bed for a while. But after a few days –" Here Ada made doubting sounds, but I plowed on. "—I shall go to the prince and ask him if he perhaps misconstrued my reply to his proposal." For a split second, Ada looked like she might try to convince me not to, but then she just sighed and shook her head a little. There was a nice kind of silence for a while before I asked, "Has anything else happened in the last five days?"

"No," Ada said quickly with a slight blush.

"I see," I answered. "So are you going to tell me if it was Seolai or you who broke the silence, or shall I guess?" I laughed in a relieved sort of way – feeling a spark of joy in a long time. Ada laughed too, but just a short, nervous one. "You obviously have not told anyone else, and I am stuck in bed and will not be able to tell a soul."

"Except Mother," Ada whispered.

"I will not tell her," I promised.

"All right." Ada took a deep breath. "The first day you were . . . sleeping, Seolai came here to speak with me. I answered the door; Mother was with you. I was so amazed to see him there that I did not even say a word to him, just stared at him. Finally, he said, 'Can I come in?' and of course I said that he could."

"Of course," I echoed.

Ada continued as though I had not spoken, staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap. "He apologized right away; he said he had been foolish to be jealous and pigheaded. So then I said I took back everything I had said, and then he asked about you. I had not heard Clarinda's rumor, and I – er, could not exactly hold myself together while telling him about it."

"You started to cry," I guessed. Ada nodded.

"Then, it was the strangest thing," she said quietly, haltingly, and I knew she was about to tell her secret, so I stayed stone silent. Ada gave a short laugh before continuing. "He proposed. I was sobbing all over, a complete mess; we were in the s_hop_ for heaven's sake! Right next to the parasols! It was not a thing like I had always pictured." Ada glanced up at me, to gauge my response, and I saw her face had a particular kind of shine to it that I had never seen before. "I was a complete blubbering mess. It took me a while to get enough spare breath to tell him 'yes.'"

"Oh, Ada," I murmured. "So it is princess-hood in Jhiline for you."

"Yes," she said softly, taking my hand. "But have no fear, I shall never be queen. You see, Seolai has an older brother Riedou –"

"I see no reason that I would _fear_ you being queen, Ada. Ella, I can definitely. But you would make a fine queen, and I am sure that Seolai agrees –" I started, not very happy with my elder sister for doubting herself once again.

"Irene," Ada interrupted, squeezing my hand rougher than was strictly needed. "I meant that I could very easily remain living here in Bolton."

"Oh," I said in a small voice, feeling a slight heat on my face. I was saved from further embarrassment by a knock on the door.

"Ada? Dr. Candavish is here to check on Irene . . ." Mother explained as she opened the door, looking a little less pale. Dr. Candavish, a tall man with large eyes, entered the room and beamed at me.

"Well, I see our little invalid has finally awakened. Good, good, good. We will just see how the instruments say her body is doing." Suddenly, I remembered why the doctor had always been a tiny bit frightening to Ada and I when we were small. After the standard check-up, in which Dr. Candavish said nothing but murmured, "Good, good, good," he was still beaming, so I figured good news was on the way. "It all looks excellent, Mrs. Graham – er, Broen. I would advise at least a week in bed, but you can extend it to two or even three if her recovery is slow, and it would not give much cause for worry." Abruptly, the doctor turned to me and spoke to me more directly than he ever had. "We cannot have a princess who is not quite well, can we?"

Ada looked ready to kill and Mother was scandalized. "I am afraid you are misinformed," I told him, attempting gentility. "It is not I whom the prince chose."

Dr. Candavish stared at me, eyes even wider than normal, incoherent mumbling coming from his mouth. "Not . . . you?" he finally squeaked out.

"No, indeed. I am quite eager to discover who it is, and I hope it will be announced soon. Has it not been quite a substantial amount of time since the ball?"

"Almost two months now," Mother supplied.

"But . . . no . . . I . . ." The three of us watched the doctor flounder, none of us feeling very sympathetic. "I see. I am awfully sorry for the misunderstanding," he sputtered, and quickly left.

"Honestly!" Mother fumed, beginning to pace. "I simply do _not_ understand how people can say that you and the prince are going to be married! It baffles me completely! You have been – in bed for the last five days, and you have not left the house except for church for almost three weeks!" She continued to mutter under her breath as Ada moved back to my side, reaching down for my hand again.

She hissed in my ear, "Shall we tell her?"

"If anyone should know the truth, it is her, except perhaps – erm, yes. I think we shall." Ada gave a small smirk that told me she knew who I was not speaking about, then straightened up and cleared her throat.

Mother turned to face us, mind still working furiously on the gossipers of Bolton. "Mother, we – er, Irene, that is, has something to tell you."

"Traitor," I grumbled at her. Ada hid her smile. "Mother, there is a reason all those people think that I am going to become Prince Lawrence's wife." I took a breath. "It is because he announced it the day that I fainted."

"What do you –"

"Give Irene a chance to explain herself," Ada begged. Mother closed her mouth and crossed her arms.

"It is his plan to tell everyone that he and I are to be married, but not to marry. Once his father dies, he would reveal his true desire – to marry Ella. He believes that once he is king, he may marry whoever he wishes to marry." That, of course, left Mother speechless, which Ada and I had anticipated. It was not every day you hear an extremely underhanded and foolish plan that includes the intentional misleading of everyone in the country, including the king, the downfall of your daughter and elevation of your stepdaughter. If it was, I doubted that the jails would be as empty as they were.

(hee hee. I like that last bit. Wait. Am I allowed to like something I wrote myself?)

Thanks to . . .

Arein – Yes, Nat was being jealous, and somewhat foolish, but now that you know the truth, you don't hate him, do you? You better not let Scoutcraft Piratess hear you talk about Prince Lawrence like that. I hate him, too, but he's my character, after all, so I think I'm safe from her fan-girl wrath, but there's no telling what she might do to you.

Artemis – You are such a genius. Really, is there anything I can do that would surprise you or catch you off-guard? And it's Nat, not Nate. Just for that, I'm keeping him from you another chapter. (sticks out tongue and tries to fight off feelings of elementary kid)

fireworksinmybackpocket – (did I tell you your name rocks?) No, Nat doesn't hate her. She refused the prince BUT the prince is just a little nutty/twisted. Don't worry, you didn't miss anything, I just pulled a fast one. (cue maniacal laughter)

Lulai – Firstlylyly, thank you so much for reviewing. And thank you so much for that WONDERFUL complement. (blushes, skips, and grins for days.) Don't let your dad freak you out. (My dad just did. He was wearing a Darth Vader costume. No, don't ask me to explain . . .)

mythicalmemory – smack Clarinda all you want. It's not like anyone here will try to make you stop. (is insanely jealous of your Giantess Chair.) I'll trade you a plot bunny for the Chair! Just kidding. . .maybe.

Scoutcraft Piratess – You are a strange, strange girl, Emily. After I'm finished with this story, you may have Lawrence, since you seem to have developed some weird kind of obsession over him, despite all the stupid things he does. NO, NAT IS NOT EVIL. Just in case you didn't realize that all ready.

Tiger Lily21 – Oh, never fear, fair lady! All my stories have the Happy Ending Guarentee! (void where voided by moi, like Dreamer. That doesn't have a Happry beginning, middle, or Ending.)

Join the review revolution! (see my profile for details.)


	11. Some Love Lost

And then something happened that the writer did not intend . . . (all explanations and excuses _after _the chapter)

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Chapter Eleven - Some Love Lost 

_You did not see that I loved you  
But you saw a love of your own  
And though I would have been true  
You may only reap what is sown_  
– Bilanciato

When Mother had been properly convinced, we began our next project: what we could do to prevent the prince's plan from succeeding. After a few half-offered ideas, I felt pressed to say, "Mother, Ada and I have been through something like this before. I believe the only way to succeed is for me to confront the prince myself."

Mother looked like she might cry again, but said in a firm voice, "You will not leave your bed until Dr. Candavish pronounces you fit enough, no matter what the rumors are."

"The problem is not just the _rumors_, Mother," Ada said vehemently. "The prince plans to – "

"Yes, yes," Mother interrupted tiredly. "I know, but that is not what matters. Too much exertion could lead Irene to a relapse, is that what you want?"

"I am the only one who can stop this, Mother. Otherwise, Ella will become queen. Is that what _you_ want?" Usually, I do not care for speaking this way to one's mother, but her comment to Ada when I was _right there_ had rankled me not a little. Mother turned pink and speechless.

Ada gave a resigned sigh. "I have to agree with Irene. Mother, there is no other way. This is our only choice. However, I do not think it would be wise for Irene to attempt to leave the house for at least . . ." She looked me over for a moment. "A week."

"A week!" Mother and I said at the same time, frustrated for different reasons. Quite suddenly, we heard a loud noise downstairs. "Ella's home," Mother whispered, her eyes wide, and left the room quickly. I gave Ada a questioning look. She sighed again.

"Ella has been – away from home for the last few days," Ada explained shortly.

"The last few _days_?" I echoed incredulously.

"I supposed that the news about Prince Lawrence and you had hurt her, but of course, I told Mother no such thing. I really cannot imagine that Ella went anywhere else except . . ." She looked at me mournfully and in my heart, I felt the same way. Ella must know the plan. The future was even grimmer than we had thought.

I fidgeted slightly and adjusted my pillow. My finger, only somewhat subconsciously, traced the words "Dearest Irene" as I hummed a tune I could not remember the name of and waited. Somehow, the pace of life slowing down so much had not been as calming as one would think. No, it had rather the opposite effect. Two short knocks sounded on my door, and Ada poked her head in with a small smile. "Mother and I are going to church now, Reney."

"All right," I responded, attempting to hide the title of the book in my lap. "I will try not to miss you too much."

"Ha ha," she said as she closed the door. I heard Mother and Ada murmuring as they left the house. I leaned back just a little to watch them from out of my window as they strolled down the street.

Moving carefully, I pushed myself away from my pillow a little, turned myself towards my window and placed my feet on the floor. With my eyes shut and a small prayer, I stood up, a hand hovering near the wall just in case. I was determined to make it to the door today without any assistance from the wall and try my luck with the stairs. My legs no longer shook violently, but they shook all the same. I stumbled unsteadily to the door and only touched the wall once, very briefly. Though it was not my goal, it was a vast improvement from the first day. As I stood at the top of the stairs, trying my best to focus on what I was about to do, my thoughts wondered to a subject that it had been dwelling on rather often as of late.

My heart still felt a little tender from Nat's words, even though I knew the cause of them now. I tried to imagine how his heart felt when he heard that I was to marry Prince Lawrence and wanted, more than anything, to hit something, preferably my cousin or my stepsister.

The anger I felt boiling deep down inside of me took me by surprise, and I wondered, briefly, if it was another side effect of love. I certainly never felt fire threatening to burst out of my veins before now, even when Ella was at her worst. I conjured up my last view of Nat: I had misinterpreted the look in his green, green eyes, but now I saw the pain that he had been masking with anger. When Nathaniel Grey was hurt, he was hurt deeply. Deep hurt is hard to recover from, I knew.

I felt on my lips the ghost of Nat's kiss and beat down the impulse to cry. I shook the thoughts from my head and took a step forward.

I should not have let my mind wander so far from the task at hand. My graceless trip down the stairs certainly brought it back. The stinging thuds told me I was bruised, but my bones, at least, were safe – there were no cracks. I landed with one foot on the bottom stair, one leg folded underneath the other and flat on my back, with the ceiling talking up the entirety of my view. I was certainly glad that there was no one who had seen my embarrassing mistake, especially since I could tell that my skirt was scandalously askew. I rubbed my forehead and felt the beginnings of a headache.

When I was finally standing upright, I inspected myself and found bleeding cuts on my right arm and hand. As I took a careful step towards the store, where there were a few small bandages in the desk, I heard footsteps on the porch and the doorknob twisting. My cheeks flushed, but I knew it was useless to try to run back to my room. The door opened and I prepared to explain myself to Mother and Ada. Thinking it might be best to confess right up front, I began, "I thought I could –"

"Miss Irene, I thought you were under strict orders to stay in bed," Edmund Tanner said, closing the door with a bit of a grin and a twinkle in his light eyes. Struck speechless, I sat down on the stairs. "Oh, I would never dream of tattling, but I have to admit that – are you bleeding?"

"Er, yes. I was just going –" I started.

"Of course, of course," Edmund murmured hurriedly. "Here, let me –" Here he took my unharmed arm gently and pulled me up. "Lead the way," he instructed grimly.

He was mostly silent as he cleaned and tended to my wounds – there were a few more I had missed in my look-over – and when I recalled that his father was also a doctor, I relaxed a little and let him move my limp appendages. After he was through, he lost most of the serious, professional manner that he had adopted doctoring me. "So, what happened?"

"I fell down the stairs," I admitted, feeling my face warm again. "I know it was foolish to attempt them, but I had been walking all right –"

"Now _that_ does not come as a surprise," Edmund interjected. He was prone to interrupt everyone – himself included – and one got used to it after a while. "You were always a fast learner, or, in this case, relearner."

I was unsure of how to respond to this unexpected compliment, so instead I said, "Now that I am well, would you care to inform me or your purpose here?"

Edmund became serious once more. He turned from me as he replaced all of the leftover bandages in the desk drawer. He uttered his reason, still fiddling with the items in the drawer, "Nat."

_Nat. . ._ I was overrun with thoughts and emotions and placed a steadying hand on the desk. Breathlessly anxious, I managed to squeak out, "Nat sent you?"

He finally shut the drawer and looked me in the face. His eyes were sad. "No, Irene. He did not." Suddenly but not at all unexpectedly, I felt as gray and worn as an overused washcloth. Edmund's eyes grew sadder yet and there was some movement that I caught only a glimpse of – I rather think he had almost reached out to touch my hand but thought better of it. Letting out a sigh, he said, his voice low and gentle, "Perhaps we should talk in the living room."

"Yes," I heard myself answer. I took a step and Edmund was immediately at my side, a hand loosely clasping my forearm. I led him to the back of the house and into the living room. Perhaps I stumbled and perhaps I even fell, I could not tell you for I have no memory of the journey.

We sat for a little while in silence, facing each other, a scant handbreadth apart. The window to our small garden seemed a safer subject for my eyes than Edmund, so I watched the sun glowing brightly on a green world as he spoke. "Irene, I have not always been the _most_ observant when it comes to the inner-workings of Nathaniel Grey's heart, but there are certain things that I cannot even miss. I have a feeling that he met up with you shortly before your . . . incident, and I can just imagine what words he spoke. I wanted you to know that when I saw him the next day, he was positively distraught. Alexander, of course, told him about finding you on the street as they did, and how you were so pale and cold they really were not even sure that you were still – you should have seen him then, Irene; he was so utterly hopeless and so full of guilt he really could not even speak about it."

The words were buzzing through my head, but hope would not come to me so easily. I heard my voice, full of acidic hardness, responding quickly, "If he was really 'so _full of **guilt**_,' why is it not _he_ who is before me, and why is it not _his_ voice that is informing me of it? Why did he leave me the way I was, with his last words echoing endlessly in my mind? Why did he not run as fast as his legs could carry him to my side when he heard that I was awake?" To my horror, I felt my eyes tingling with salt water as my words became ragged. "Do not play games with my feelings, Edmund Tanner, I have had enough of that sort of thing to last me quite a while –"

Edmund said nothing, simply let me dissolve into a sobbing mess of a heartbroken girl. Again, he made a small movement, but this time it was completed, and he tugged me gently nearer to him so he could give me a loose hug. It was nice to have a shoulder to cry on, which I had had to do without since my father died. I was glad that he felt no need to murmur meaningless comfort in my ears, as it would not have stilled my grief in the least. My eyes finally exhausted of liquid pain, I gave a small hiccough and Edmund pulled away, making no attempt to touch my face or fix my hair. I let my long bangs stay caught in the wetness of my cheeks as we sat in a different kind of silence. Finally, he spoke again, in a voice even quieter than before.

"I know you were hurt by Nat's words, and I know what kinds of things Nat tends to say when he is also hurt, as you do. He does not dwell on them or think over them, just lets them fly out of him, red-hot and burning to the touch." Edmund closed his eyes a little and I could imagine what former pain he was recalling. "But you _must_ know, Irene, how quickly he repents of it inside of himself. He is a proud man and even if he knows he has made a mistake, he – he is not always so willing to let someone forgive him." I could not have known Nathaniel Grey for as long and closely as I have without stumbling upon this fact. I nodded.

There seemed little more to say, but Edmund made no movement from the room or even from the chair that he sat in. He tilted his head to the side, his longish red hair brushing the collar of his Sunday shirt, with almost a smile on his face. "You have been through quite an ordeal these past weeks. But if I may say so, Miss Graham, you are looking practically radiant right this minute."

Another hiccough, this one of surprise, escaped me, and I looked intently at the man across from me. His words were not uttered with the height of flattery or even sincerity, but it made me wonder. He _had_, after all, asked me to dance, had come to visit me when I was ill, had tended to my wounds, both physical and otherwise, with a gentle touch, and then to say that I looked radiant, even _practically_ so. . .

The grin on his face had acquired a trace of bitterness while I mulled all this over. "I suppose," he said lightly, "that all of that is rather too late now." Before I had a chance to say anything at all, he stood up, gave my hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes as sad as ever, and left me with only a wry, "Do be careful on that staircase."

I sat, my cheeks still quite damp from too many tears and my hands shaking. This was far too much for a girl to handle – I felt rather as if I had been taken up to touch the sky only to be dropped before I had the chance to reach out my hand. For how long had Edmund Tanner watched his best friend woo the girl he loved? Yet he had never shown any sign of it at all, not even a hint, even as he doctored my wounds. Could it be that he had never even hidden it, but I was simply too focused on Nat? "Half-blind with love," I repeated, in a sharper voice than Ada had used originally.

It took me a while to stand up, as my all ready unsteady limbs had not quite gotten used to the knowledge of Edmund's secret. But stand I did, and I slowly made my way back to my room, taking special care on the staircase. With every stair I stepped upon, I felt as though someone was tearing my heart a little more. By the time I had reached the bed, I could no longer make out anything but hazy shapes as I stumbled and cried, needing someway to get the hurt and confusion out of me. It was too much; it was simply too much . . .

Ada woke me gently, brushing a hand through my hair and not even speaking, only humming a gentle tune. I found myself clutching my pillow as one would clutch a rope that was the only thing between them and hurtling down to their death. I turned my face to behold my older sister. She wore a sad smile and her shoes – she had come straight from the door to check on me. "My dear," she murmured after a long moment of patient waiting, "what has occurred?"

I turned my body around so that I could lie on my back and see her whole self as I spoke. My voice was still rough. "Ask me later. I do not care to cry again."

Ada nodded and then looked me in the eye. "Shall I go then?"

"No," I replied sharply, skimming my hand across the bedspread to grasp hers. She noticed the bandages but one look from me told her that this was not to be discussed at present. She took it firmly but carefully and she swallowed hard, as if attempting to keep her feelings at bay. Her mouth opened and shut with a sigh. I saw that she had something she wished to say but worried that I might not want to hear it, so I gave my consent with a nod.

"Seolai was at church today," she said, her eyes wide and her voice tinged with disbelief. I tilted my head in wonderment. "I know, he said he would be gone for a long time and that he had much to do in Jhiline. I was distracted through the whole service, trying to imagine why he was back so soon. The service ended . . ." Ada seemed to have lost her train of thought completely. She stared at my bookshelf as if entranced, with an expression of absolute blankness on her face.

"And then?" I prompted.

"And then we talked," she replied softly, not taking her eyes off the bookshelf or losing the look in her eye. "He – he has broken off our engagement."

"What?" I said, my voice screeching painfully.

"He was very nice about the whole thing," Ada continued, as if I had not said anything at all. "He said he had had a lovely time with me, and that I was a lovely girl, and that he had acted impulsively, without thinking of the millions of consequences to his actions." She spoke the words hollowly and with a resigned air, almost as if she were telling a story.

"Ada," I whispered, as she pulled her hand from mine.

"It is finished between us now," she said, although the declaration lacked any fire with which to convince me. "Seolai has so many responsibilities, you know, to his parents and his brother and his country. He – he would only be burdened down by marriage."

"Some have managed it," I replied curtly, clenching my jaw. Ada finally turned her gaze from the bookshelf and gave me a hard and unyielding look.

"It is for the best," she said fiercely. "Do not suggest anything else." I murmured her name again, pleadingly, and reached out a hand, but she pulled away. "I have made my peace with it," she announced, standing up, looking more regal and inaccessible than she ever had before. "That is all I have to say on the matter." Then she was gone.

* * *

I really, really, really did not mean to make Edmund in love with Irene or split up Seolai and Ada. I totally promise. I really do want to write a happy chapter with lots of lovin and . . . not depressing-ness. And eventually we'll get there, I SWEAR! (Oh, and Bilanciato Ky'loe. It is Italian for balanced and sounds niffy.) 

The reason I update slow I write slow. So it's not really about to change . . . on the other hand, I will have lossa time this summer for fixing this mess I've turned S&S into.

Really, all of you are unbelievably nice to stick with me and this story. Thank you! And because I'm in that kind of mood, I'll list you all right here! Arein, Lady Kazaana, Hayley, Scoutcraft Piratess, mythicalmemory, cinnamon, and Tiger Lily21! Yay I love you!

Hm, because you'll be at a loss of what to say besides "Holy cow, what the heck was THAT," tell me what your favorite scene has been in this story (or maybe the scene you hated the least, if you're iffy about this baby).

Free chocolate/candy/tofu for everyone!

Join the review revolution and share the love! (see me profile, me hearties, iffen you'd like s'more information)


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